Saturday Morning

My doctor recommended I get to sleep at a decent hour to help me with my depression. I have been working on it, but as I get sleep I feel so much better I end up staying up late and shooting myself in the foot.

Last night was one of those nights.

Of course, Megan was not to be dissuaded from getting me up Saturday morning.

First I hear the laundry switched and started.

Then, she comes in to me. "Wake up, wake up, wake up! I thought you wanted to be on a schedule."

I send her away.

A few minutes later, she comes in again. "Wanna bite of my biscuit??"

No.

Next, she brings in the dog, who promptly settles down on top of me.

Go away.

Then she says, "Come down so your eggs don't get cold."

"Did you make me eggs?"

"Not yet."

"Don't."

By then I am stirring enough I decided to get up. When I got downstairs, she was in the process of making my eggs.

"I would have saved you the biscuit for your eggs, but I know that eggs are very filling...even though I don't eat them."

I think I'll go to be earlier tomorrow...it's no fun being woken up by a bright eyed and bushy tailed child.

And I think I'll do this to her next time she is not feeling like waking up.....