Saturday, October 17, 2009

The Weekly Wonderings #127

1. School days, Eldest sets his alarm for 6:30 a.m. Upon hearing said alarm, Corrie-the-wonder-mutt nudges and whines to be let out of Eldest's room to hunt for breakfast.

2. After completing the task, Eldest closes the door and crawls back into bed for more shut-eye. Secure in the knowledge that his mother will awaken him again in 15 or 20 minutes.

3. From this point on, I am going to see that as an opportunity to enjoy a few minutes of peaceful conversation with a pliable, agreeable sleepyhead rather than feed the annoyance I sometimes feel as I schlep down two flights of stairs to wake the lazy kid up because he can't hear me yell for him to get up because his damn door is shut.

4. I wrote the first three bullets earlier this week. I think I wrote them on Wednesday. Three school days worth of wake-up calls.

5. He hasn't kicked me out yet.

6. And I haven't bellowed.

7. Yet.

8. Snippets from my Gmail this week: how come I'm sending myself emails about Viagra?

9. How come only Miley Cyrus beat out Marge Simpson in number of searches this week? Why aren't more people running searches on Jesse McCartney or Kevin Rose or Zach Braff?

10. How come you think I need vein treatment? Can you tell just be looking at my profile image?


Beck said...

I have to pretty much physically stand my oldest child on her feet to wake her up on school mornings. I do not see this getting EASIER as she gets older.

Maria said...

Mornings are killer. When Bing's alarm goes off at 5:30, I roll over to go back to sleep until 6:15 and the only thing that gets me out of that damn bed is knowing that she has brewed coffee before she left for work.

D... said...

Zach Braff. He makes me laugh.

My 12 year old son crawled in my lap last night. I asked him if he planned to do this even at 16. He responded: Would there be something wrong with that? I thought: Sniff, please don't grow up!


I mentioned to Eldest the other night that I had a fairly wide open day Friday. Writer that he is, he wondered if I would perhaps like a wri...