I’m curled up on the loveseat in 14 year old FavoriteSon’s room, talking to him after his alarm has gone off this morning. I’ve prompted him to move from sleeping position to stretching, to sitting on the side of his bed, still stretching to get the blood moving.
Me: Come on bud. It’s 8:10. Are you ready?
FavoriteSon: In an alternate universe.
I’ve switched 8 year old PinkGirl’s music from peaceful instrumental to drive time Christian radio. I’ve kissed her head, and given her a “wake up” back rub.
Me: Come on sweetie. FavoriteBrother is already downstairs. Can you come?
PinkGirl, Stretching and in the Middle of a Yawn: “Mom, sleeping feels SOOOO good.”
Me: “I know it does.”