I have an arrangement with my husband that makes me the last one in the house to get out of bed. I won’t bore you with the very good reasons for it. But this morning I was lying in bed doing groggy mental gymnastics to figure out why I had the distinct impression I was supposed to get up early(er).
Someone coming over? Nooo.
Important phone call? Nooo.
Cook something? N- Cook something?? COOK SOMETHING????
I’d promised the boys we’d have the cinnamon rolls leftover from Christmas that had been stored, unbaked, in the freezer. Cinnamon rolls are my purview. And my need for order and getting chores and school started on time and not screwing up the entire rest of the day is why I ran through the house and started fumbling with the oven before I could even speak in sentences.
And the dog. The dog was very excited to see me so excited. He had his giant blue rubber bone in his mouth and two other people in the kitchen to play with but it was my butt he kept poking at while making playful growly noises. To be honest, I was flattered.