Aselin

I have never been a morning person. Despite the fact that my father would awaken me at 4 in the morning during most of my teenage years so we could get in an early morning run before my early morning religion class and school that began at 7 a.m.

My whole life has been a series of such injustices.

Motherhood has trained me a little differently, and I do wake up on my own fairly early. Notice I said "wake up" not "get up". This morning I awoke around 3 a.m. This is not a normal time. Normal people sleep in past three. I toss and turn for a few hours and then, drag my sorry bones out of bed to awaken the kids and get breakfast going.

I made them a lovely breakfast. French toast, fresh sliced strawberries, bananas, warm maple syrup and whipped cream. Yes, you can call me Martha Stewart. After getting them going I waddled back to my room and collapsed back in bed. I understand this is the Cardinal Sin of mornings, but it takes everything I've got to perkily stand there while they munch.

A few minutes later Unnamed Child #2 wanders in. I lift my zombie-head and say "Need anything buddy?"

My children are now of the age where, for the most part, they recognize that I am not their personal slave. At this point none of my children would be unwise enough to say, "Yeah, would you get me a drink?" If they are making me move, then it better be for a fire, or a severed limb.

Unnamed Child #2 furrows their brow and says "Um, what?"

I repeat "Do you need anything?"

"Um, no, I thought you said you wanted me to taser you."

Really?

Well, now that I think of it, yes that is exactly what I need this morning. Please get the taser out of the junk drawer in the kitchen.