6:43 am: The radio on my wife's side of the bed presents a faux-Medieval styled arrangement of a round for mixed chorus, gentle, soothing.
The image in my mind is of me, alone, in a rowing scull, or kayak, the only sound that of my oars entering and departing the water. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. The sun rising in the distance. Nothing but me, the boat, the water, the sun, a stray tree on the shore.
I sit up.
Good Morning, says my wife.
Good morning.
She presses off the radio. The house is silent. I stretch a little, then take a shower. The Rocket Scientist and I sit to a breakfast of cereal, fresh mangoes, orange juice, and coffee.
The house is silent.
7:23: The Painter, followed by The Inventor enter the kitchen.
Good morning.
Good morning, my beautifuls.
My wife and I smile. The day has begun. I can't recall the last, peaceful morning, that my wife and I sat to breakfast in quiet. Perhaps we should rise early more often, and hope the boys stay in bed. They normally arise about 6:30, before we'd like to wake.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I just hate getting up before 9 am, so sadly, that will never happen to us. It sounds like you had a lovely eaerly morning, though :)
That sounds great! What a sweet family you have. And... mmmm... mangoes.
Post a Comment