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Sunday, March 14, 2010

The Tale of a Sunday Morning

This morning Chandler stood at the bedroom door... "Pssst! Pssst! Mama!" in a very annoying stage whisper, "Mama. I'm hungry." It was 7:09am. Damn children! Groggily I replied, "Go find something. A granola bar maybe."

Approximately 3 minutes and 18 seconds later she returned, "Mama. Mama. There aren't any granola bars. What should I eat?"

For the love of God. She's a big girl. She can do lots of things, but apparently finding something to eat is not one of them.

I mumbled something about just finding something...anything...and rolled back over.

Approximately 8 minutes and 29 seconds later she returned. "Mama? Mama? If we leave 2 daddy dollars on the island, can sister and I play our ds's until you wake up?"

At that point I had thoughts of smashing the ds over her head. But that would involve getting out of bed. So I didn't. I'm not sure why its necessary to visit me 3 times while I am still sleeping. I never would have considered doing that to my mother. Not that I was usually up before my mother. I was a sleep until 10am kind of kid. And I had an 8pm bedtime....every night. Why? Why can't my children be more like me???

Quinn slept until almost 9 (daylight savings time) though, so it wasn't a completely ruined morning.

1 comment:

Allyson said...

She couldn't find anything to eat because she ate the entire coffee cake the day before! (I know I"m a week or two late commenting.)