Until very recently Maddy was the sort of kid that would spring out of bed, bubbling with happiness and talkativeness and raring to start the day.
That, thank goodness and all possible gods, has stopped.
I am SO not a morning person. I am a lizard and need time to crawl out of my cave and warm up under my heat lamp before I can communicate effectively with humans. I like silence for, I don’t know, a couple of hours, until I’ve eaten and mostly digested breakfast and read the paper and soaked extensively in a very hot shower. (Anyone with kids will realize this is pretty much a fantasy, but it is one I cling to.) Breakfast conversation at our house often goes something like this:
D: blah blah Afghanistan blah blah blah travesty! Blah blah blah government blah blah blah tanks and air cover blah blah blah army blah blah blah blah public doesn’t understand blah blah blah all wrong!
Me: You are talking again.
D: Sorry.
This is Maddy 10 minutes after she was called to breakfast:
Apparently she does contain my genetic material after all. Yay.
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