Saturday Morning Delight

Slowly I open my eyes.  Several slivers of light shine through the openings in the curtains, and I notice that the double doors leading out of my bedroom are closed.  Those doors are rarely closed; we largely operate on an open-door policy.  As I come to a fully conscious state, I smile to myself as I realize the reason behind the closed doors.  I have been allowed to sleep in.

The clock says 8:43.  I lie in my warm bed another two minutes, then swing my legs over the edge, slip into my well-worn slippers, pull on a robe, and make my way out of the cocoon of the room.  The comforting smell of strong coffee greets me.  As I make my way downstairs I notice that I don’t hear any noises that usually accompany the three other people who share this house.  No sports programs blaring, no Spongebob hahahahahaha, no bickering.  I find my husband by himself at the table reading the paper with a cup of coffee and assorted other electronic devices that he gives each a glance before he looks up and smiles his good morning to me.

Good morning, I say as I reach for a coffee cup and fill it.  We kiss hello and I sit at the table and ask him the standards as I sip the coffee which brings the rest of me back to life.  How did you sleep, when did you wake up, what are the kids doing.

I consider my husband, whose early-morning commute to work has conditioned him to wake in the darkness. I don’t think that he minds; he has become a morning person.  The kids are in the basement watching TV and playing with Legos; that is why they are quiet today.  They love Saturdays as much as I do, probably more.  I marvel at the fact that during a week, they ask me to wake them up each day, and I do dutifully, bracing myself for tears or whining about not wanting to go to school, even though that rarely happens anymore.  On Saturdays, they get up by themselves before the sun lights the sky.  

What are your plans for today, my husband asks.  I don’t know.  I point to my coffee cup.  I cannot think about planning right now.  I rarely plan anything, anyway.  He is the planner in our house.  He could schedule the rest of our lives away.  I plan to do things like wake up, get a shower, eat toast for breakfast.  Years of raising children has taught me that even the best-laid plans will succumb to someone vomiting in the car or having a tantrum in the grocery store.  My planning skills have been weakened by the whims of people who need to be taken care of, not controlled by a calendar.

Right now I am enjoying my coffee and the quiet.  I’d like all of us to clean the house this morning, I offer lamely.

He smiles at me.  That sounds like fun, he replies.  I can’t wait to tell the kids.

I smile back.  Me either. 

I have satisfied his inquiry.  We have something to do today.  But as we go back to our coffee, and sit together, reading the paper in the quiet, I think about my warm bed and how nice it would be to be there right now.

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This post is inspired by: 

Mama Kat's Writing Workshop 

Writing prompt #5: Saturday morning at your house…