The Waking Half-Dead

English: A photo of a cup of coffee. Esperanto...

English: A photo of a cup of coffee. Esperanto: Taso de kafo. Français : Photo d’une tasse de caffé Español: Taza de café (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Gingerly toes appear from the darkness, finding cold air. Grimacing, a face appears and the covers get tossed aside with a huff. Lurching with the grace of the Half-Dead, I emerge from my slumber and stumble down the hall, hands steadying myself as I find my way toward the life-giving Coffee Machine.

“Hey, Mom!” Shouts one boisterous and wide awake child.

“Awgh-blghdred” I reply.

Suddenly there is a child hanging off my leg. “Good Morning, Mom!!!”

“Gdnblerg” Stumble, lurch, hug hug.

“Good day, My Love! I was just thinking about the idea of this sermon illustration….blah blah blah…I have been thinking all night about it and didn’t sleep a wink…..yada yada.”

“Sounds good…blerg.” I blink a few times, wondering just how long he’s been up, and trying desperately to clear my vision.

Two brain cells rub together long enough to grind the coffee so that my morning beverage can brew. Sniffing at the aroma wafting from the sweet nectar, I pull two kids apart and grumble something that sounds less like making peace and more like “Let me wake up first before you throw punches!”

Ironically, when the odd day arrives that I leap out of bed early with a twinkle in my eye and a spring in my step, the family thinks that the world just may be coming to an end.

Don’t worry, my loves, it only lasts a day and then we go back to normal.

The Day of the Waking Half-Dead.

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