Saturday, December 12, 2009

How was that again?

This morning the alarm went off, as it does with depressing frequency, at an hour of the morning that features both penetrating darkness and bone-chilling coldness. My husband jumped out of bed with less enthusiasm than he would have for, say, the clatter of a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer out on the snowy lawn and tramped downstairs to his bathroom to take his shower.

I sat up yawning, thinking "Morning already?" and running my fingers through my pillow-smooshed hair to give me that really appealing Ludwig van Bedhead look. After clearing away a few cobwebs, I leaned across the bed to reach for the television remote in the hopes that I'd catch a weather report forecasting sun and sixty-seven degrees for central Indiana today and suddenly noticed the clock.

6:45?

Wait.....Isn't it Saturday?

I counted on my fingers -- Monday, yes. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday -- and noted that the previous days were all present and accounted for. So why, then, were my husband and I awake at 6:45 a.m.? Because Saturday is our day, right? When we get to sleep an hour later?

He came back into our bedroom, smelling of soap and shaving cream and carrying a pair of pants in the dry cleaner's plastic bag over his arm. Throwing those down on the bed, he went busily to the closet and chose a shirt, then turned to his dresser and excavated a pair of socks.

"Honey?" I asked him as he buttoned his shirt.

"Yeah?" he answered, pulling down his cuffs and straightening his collar.

"Are you meeting a client first thing this morning?"

"Nope."

"Then why are we up so early?"

"This is when we always wake up."

"Well, yeah," I said, gesturing at the clock. "This is when we always wake up during the week. But this is Saturday, dude."

He paused with a sock in his hand, mentally counting back the days -- I had to use my fingers, but he's smarter that way than I am -- and then said something that I can't repeat on a family blog. He looked regretfully at his pillow and mourned, "I cannot freaking believe I did this."

"Yes," I said eagerly, "but it has turned out to be a blessing after all, because now you have time to drive over to Burger King and bring me one of those croissant thingies, sausage and egg with no cheese."

1 comment:

Sharon said...

HA HA HA!!!
Oh man, I'd be so mad at myself.
Then again, that's our kids' waking time (at the latest) regardless of what day it is.

I hope you got your Burger King!