living dangerously

The girl broke the cardinal sin this morning, the holy of holy.

She woke me up before my alarm clock. Worse still, ten minutes before the alarm clock was due to blast my fragile consciousness from its slumber.

The only word that can possibly pull me from my sleep and winch my eyelids open began the break through my dreams, in which I was being allowed to sleep a little longer.

‘Mummy’ the voice danced along the edges of the fog that passes for brain activity and I slowly started to connect the dots and realise this was my daughter trying to gain my attention. Slowly my eyes began to crack open like a roller shutter on an off licence the day after the local thug has been sent to prison. Words are not a really possibility in those first moments of wakefulness, only the prehistoric grunts of our ancestors ‘Urghhh?’ I questioned, the girl knows all too well exactly what information that grunt contained, the burry shape I was starting to see as my eyes protested the business of focusing for another day, took a step back and it was at that point that I knew with the automatic sense you develop quickly as a parent that this was no emergency. Nothing was hanging off, there was no blood and nobody was in peril (apart from as a consequence of the pre alarm awakening).

My eyes had now resigned themselves to their role in life and I could see the face of a girl arranging herself to attempt to appear to be suffering greatly ‘Mummy, I have a sore throat.’ she stated somewhat clearly for someone afflicted with a sore throat. I could only croak the response ‘And?’ given that my sense of compassion wasn’t yet on the clock.

I was now sadly more in the land of the awake then the asleep and deliberate movement was now much more of an achievable possibility, I sat up a little and raised an eyebrow still waiting for the reason I had been deprived of the pleasure of hitting snooze on the alarm clock. I set my morning alarm ten minutes before the time I really do have to let go of my dreams of dreams just to allow myself the giddy pleasure of hitting snooze… on a school day.

The girl was going to have to come up with a very good reason why she felt it so urgent that I knew she had a sore throat 20 minutes earlier than her first opportunity in the normal order of the day. ‘My nose is runny as well’ she stated not helping her case one little bit.

She was unable to give any kind of answer to the question of what she expected me to do about it let alone a satisfactory one and she was also unable to justify why she had felt it prudent to wake me up to give me this information. I sent her back to bed but for me it was now awake and it seemed, also suffering from a sore throat and blocked nose. So rather then get up and have a head start on the day I got up and got a head start on Facebook. The kick in the teeth came a quarter hour later when I called up that it was now time to get up. The boy appeared rubbing his eyes a few moments later but no sign of the girl. When I went to investigate I found her in bed, asleep.

I have naturally disinherited her. Not that there is really much of anything to inherit but it’s the principle of the matter.

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