Oh my, how I envy those Morning Glory People.
They are the ones who wake up before the rooster crows, stretch like a cat, jump out of bed and into the shower and then into their clothes. In ten minutes tops they have the beds made and breakfast on the table. Five minutes later they're dancing out the door like Dorthy on her way to see the Wizard. I hate these people. I'm green with envy.
Me? It takes me longer than that to hear the alarm going off. I get out of bed looking like the female version of Kramer. On my good mornings I might have on one slipper. Trying not to stretch anything, I walk into the walls and bang my elbows on every door frame on the way to the kitchen.
I always make the coffee at night because pouring a cup is about all I can manage in the mornings. (it's worth the bitter acid taste just to have it ready).
When I was out in the work force, I always got out of bed one hour earlier than was necessary just so I would have some extra time to stumble around, and not talk to anyone or have a single thought.
We have a rule in my house. Unless you are dying or the house is on fire, do not speak to me until I have had my coffee. I am incapable of speech or thought for at least thirty minutes, two cups of bitter coffee and a cigarette. (Yeup. That's ignorant I know, but I still smoke!)
My sister-in-law is a morning glory. I think if I went to her house at five o'clock in the morning, she would have already had her shower, her face would be made up and every hair would be in place. The beds would be made and she would have done 27 loads of laundry, dusted, cleaned the carpets, washed the windows and rearranged the garbage in the can and be sitting on the back porch watching the sunrise while sipping her coffee.
Hubby once toyed with the idea of buying a small farm, complete with cows, pigs and chickens.
"Wouldn't it be great being a farmer's wife?" he asked. "I can just picture us milking the cows, slopping the hogs and gathering fresh eggs early in the morning."
"How early?" I squealed.
"Way before sunrise" he answered, a twinkle in his eye.
After he broke open an ammonia capsule, waved it under my nose and brought me to, he told me he was just kidding.
What a relief! I don't milk anything except the jar of Coffee Mate that early.
Leeuna Foster is a Marketing Strategist, Author and Poet. She has been writing for two decades and her short fiction and poetry have won several national and regional awards. If you enjoy Southern Humor, visit her website at: http://www.southernfriedwriters.com