I had just returned from the beach with my two personal trainers. Not only do they force me to walk my two miles at a brisk pace, they help develop my upper body muscles, especially when there are other dogs nearby. Holding back a curious and determined 90-pound Lab with one hand and an even more curious and determined 30 pound chow-mix with the other, is far superior to those contraptions on the early morning infomercials. Especially if you’re trying to keep the flashlight steady at the same time (my trainers walk me VERY early).
It was an early Saturday morning in the fall. I noted my household was rigorously performing its traditional “Saturday Morning Sleep-In.” I am a morning person (some, like my bride, say, “a ridiculously early morning person,” since I’m often up at 4 a.m.). My progeny, however, inherited my inamorata’s belief that the closer to noon you arise, the better your day will be. I like to get a jump on daylight. A big jump. Time’s a wasting! I had my list! (Yes, I make lists.) I had things to do!
“Dad …”
Beautiful, Sleepyhead Daughter poked her sleepy head out into the courtyard. I was cleaning our lighted fishpond.
Good morning, Sweetheart!
“Dad … it’s 4:45 a.m. The security guard just came to the back door. He saw lights. He said some guy messing with our sprinkler.”
I just turned it on!
“Oh. He said you’re watering the road.”
I couldn’t see that well. Alright, I’ll move it. Where’s the flashlight?
“Goodnight, Dad.”
Wait!
As it turned out, I was watering the road. I was also watering our neighbor’s convertible and the top was, well, down. I’d explain later. It should have been in his garage anyway.
By the time the sun came up, I had watered the lawn (see above), changed four fluorescent bulbs in the living room, gotten the garbage ready, put a new handle on a sliding glass door, and washed and waxed the kitchen …
“AGGGGGGGGGGG!”
It was my beloved! She was in pain. She was saying bad things. She was holding onto the kitchen counter with one hand, her coffee cup above her head with the other. I ran to her aid.
“YOU WAXED THE KITCHEN FLOOR AGAIN!”
Yes, my dear. I thought …
“I SLIPPED ON YOUR #@%^&*@ WAXED FLOOR TRYING TO GET MY *&+@ COFFEE!”
Here, let me help you.
“YOU DID THE SAME THING LAST WEEKEND!”
I forgot to cross “wax kitchen floor” off my list.
“AGGGGGGGGGGG!” my bride sang as she slipped back into our bedroom.
“Was that Mom?” Somnolent Son asked, poking his head out from his lair.
Yes, she …
“I had this weird dream that a security guard was here real early this morning. We got anything to eat?”
I made cinnamon rolls this morning, from scratch.
“AGGGGGGGGGGG!”
“Was that Mom?”
I forgot to tell her about the bathroom floor, it’s probably still wet!
We had a family meeting later that day. We agreed that my personal trainers cannot take me to the beach until dawn. Nor can I leave my office until that time. I can write (quietly) or do whatever. But I cannot create havoc until dawn. In return, my family will not fire me. And I get to sleep in our bed and not the couch. Seems fair.
deVere at Large
by Paul deVere
Copyright © 2004 Saron Press, Ltd.