Early, early morning.
Early, early, pre-dawn morning.
Like, before 6:00am early in the pre-dawn morning.
I hear a noise. A rustling. There's a faint movement in the hall outside the bedroom door. I look up. If I squint my eyes, I can barely discern the shadowy outline of a tall figure lurking in the doorway.
Then, a sniffle. A clearing of the throat...
Cue the creepy theme music from Jaws...
DAA dum. DAAAAA dum. DA dum, da dum, da dum, da dum...
No, it's not an intruder. No one's waiting to bash me in the head or steal my stuff. It's worse...
It's the dreaded EARLY RISER!
Yes, it's the homeschooled child who refuses to adjust to the laid-back, easy-going, We Don't Have to Wake Up With the Chickens Any More schedule that is the biggest blessing of our little homeschool world. Not one to laze about in the bed until a more normal (sane) hour, like, say 8:00 AM. Oh, no, the Early Riser is up before the teacher (who needs a full twelve ounces of caffeine in order to form a coherent sentence.) The Early Riser is wide awake with a smile from ear to ear and a mouth full of words that need to be said right now. The Early Riser doesn't need an alarm clock, breakfast, a splash of cold water on his face, a cup of coffee...he's raring to go and ready to meet the (still snoozing) world head-on. Before the world is up. Before the dog has to pee. Before the roosters have gargled!
Quick! Roll over and pretend I didn't notice him hovering in the doorway! If I'm very, very quiet, don't alter my breathing pattern, don't let the moonlight glint off my bleary eyeballs, be perfectly still...maybe...just maybe he'll go away. Go back to bed. Lay down in his own room for at least another half hour. Give me enough peace to greet the day sloooowwllllyyy....
Dad's alarm clock went off. The Early Riser heard it. All the encouragement he needed. He's back! He's in the bedroom now and he's talking, "Good morning, DAD! How'd you sleep last night? Are you working today? What time do you get off? Want to work in the garden later? What's for breakfast? Want me to make pancakes? Did you start the coffee yet? Why'd you hit the snooze button, Dad??"
Grrr...patiently, I turn to my teenager...
"Look, Son, I know you're enthusiastic and excited about the day. (Although, I'm not exactly sure why since it's just an ordinary one and nothing special is expected to happen, but I'm really glad you're glad to be alive and all.) Unfortunately, the entire rest of the household is either on Spring Break this week or they would prefer to wake up when SUNlight is actually available to then and they don't have to strap a cave-diving light to their foreheads to see more than three inches in front of their noses. Would you mind terribly if I asked you to walk quietly into the living room, find a comfy chair, sit on it and stare out the window for an hour or so? Without talking? Or turning on the tv? Or banging pots and pans? Or getting the dog out to play? Or putting the headphones on for a morning sing-along? Great. 'Preciate it! Good bye! See you later!"
"Love you, Mom. Let me know when you wake up, and I'll bring you some nice hot pancakes with butter and syrup..."
Ugh...an arrow right to the heart.
He may be an Early Riser, but he sure is a sweet one! Ok, fine, I'll get up, too and I'll eat your pancakes you delightful teenager, you! At least I don't have to drag you from your bed kicking an screaming and threaten to toss ice water on your head! Which reminds me...where's your brother??