And in a few minutes, it will start all over again.
I will call.
They will not respond.
I will go up, singing (well… sing/yelling) as I do… “Time to get up! Time to get up! The cocoa is ready this morning!”(A song I composed just for the occasion cuz I’m annoying like that).
They will moan and cover their heads. I will sing more. And louder.
Rainbow will comment that she has “singing fever,” but will smile and come downstairs.
Dolittle (if it is possible to perfect shooting someone a glaring look of doom with ones eyes closed) has mastered the look of “sleeping disgust.” Lucky for her, her mother is not only annoying but incredibly persistent.
Eventually everyone is up. It’s the moving part we’re kind of stuck on.
The curious thing is… What is it about a child’s sense of timing that makes it practically impossible for them to stay on schedule to get to school on time, but heaven forbid that you are five minutes past the time you said you would be home… they’ll greet you at the door, one hand on their little hip and the other wagging in the air, ready to scold your tardiness.
It’s time. Here we go again.