Sunday, November 16, 2008

6 am on Sunday.

Sometimes one has every intention of sleeping until the sun rises. But someone keeps opening and closing their door and finally stands over your bed, whispering, "I need to go potty!"

"Okay, go ahead."

"I want you to come with me."

And when you get him tucked in again and shove the fallen stuffed animals under his covers and get back into bed and try to resume sleeping, a dog will jump on top of you, wriggling and wiggling and giving kisses and demanding it's time for breakfast.

Sometimes being the grown-up pretty much sucks. I need a nanny. And a dog-walker. I need a full staff so that I can go about my life. I do have a sleep mask. I think that's as close to the glamorous life as I'm going to get.

1 comment:

Tracy said...

Ah, the best of intentions for a Sunday morning. Doesn't it seem those intentions are always thwarted by those (with very different intentions) living under the same roof? :)