It’s official. I’m not a morning person. I had myself fooled there for a while and was quite impressed with myself for being so reasonable and peaceful. There’s nothing like a long, quiet and productive morning. As it turns out, I’m a morning person all by myself. Throw anyone else into the mix and it’s over. Under no circumstances have I mastered brewing coffee, feeding our pets, folding the laundry and having a tender, loving conversation at the same time. Poor Brian.
He loves me so much. And he’s so daggone sweet when he’s groggy. I’m usually putzing around the house for a couple hours before he begins to stir. Once he spots me, no matter what, without fail, Brian starts every morning with one word:
Brian, from the bed, “Gimmmeeeahuuuugggg.”
Me, “Why don’t you get out of bed and give me a hug?”
Brian, “Noooo! Come’ere! Gimmmeeeahuuuugggg!”
If only I could be as sweet as he is. By the time I get gimmmeeeahuuuugggg-ed, I’m usually in the middle of three different morning responsibilities. It’s very difficult for someone with my personality type to simply stop everything and snuggle for five whole minutes. Isn’t that sad? I just can’t find the ‘off’ switch in my brain! The wheels have started turning and there’s no stopping them! Getting me to relax while I’m knee deep in the daily prep is like getting a roller coaster to slow down while it’s descending its first hill. I’m trying to work on this.
Well, yesterday morning the tables were turned and Brian was the one who brewed the coffee and fed the pets while I was still snuggled well under the covers. It is safe to assume that when I sleep longer than Brian, my body must really need some considerable rest. This almost never happens. And while – in my opinion – this is a glaringly obvious, Brian interprets my sleeping-in differently. From his understanding, if I’m still asleep it’s because I’m waiting for him to wake me up. Yesterday morning:
Brian, standing by my side of the bed while I am fast asleep, “Gimmmeeeahuuuugggg.”
Oh, no, he is NOT waking me up because he wants a hug.
I’m going to kill him.
Me, “Leave. Me. ALOOOOONE!”
I don’t remember what else I said. There was sputtering, growling and legs kicking about. This might have resembled a tantrum. At some point we continued bickering over our morning differences in the kitchen and I smacked him with a banana. Ashamed, I realized I’m not a morning person… or that I am, but just all by myself.
Similar scenario this morning.
Me, “What time is it?”
Brian, “A little after 7. Give me a hug.”
Me, “Did you turn my alarm off?”
And then he went on and on about my sleeping beauty in the sunlight. I almost believed him until I got out of bed and checked a mirror. My hair is still bobby pinned from yesterday, fuzzed and frizzed and standing on end. But he loves me! And I’m presently eating the pancakes that he served me in bed. Pray that my grinch heart grows to catch up with Brian’s.