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My son may look like his father but he wakes up like his mother. Grumpy, growly and not fit for human interaction for at least twenty minutes. Coffee is pointless.
My little carbon-copy daughter was spared at least one of my genes, thankfully, and didn’t inherit my vampire like aversion to first morning light. Like her father, she wakes up perfectly delightful, eager beaver for the day, cracking a joke before her eyes even open.
The way I see it, the early bird may get the worm, but us late birds know the brunch buffet is ten times better so you might as well sleep in.
☺ ☺ ☺
Today’s morning interactions:
Mommy (snuggling up next to a fuzzy mop of hair poking above the covers): Time to get up little boy blue come blow your horn, sheep’s in the meadow, cow’s in the corn.
Logan (disappearing like a Whack-a-Mole under the...
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