It begins with a thud. In the darkness, I awake with a jolt and pray that what I have heard is the remnants of a dream and not actually happening.
Thud, thud, thud, thud.
Oh crap. I pull the duvet over my head in a futile attempt to hide. She is coming.
There are things I can deal with. Situations that although unpleasant can be adjusted to. Things like 7am starts after a decade of only seeing 7am if the party was still going. But I have my limits. And 5am seems to be that limit. After nearly 3 years of impeccable sleeping habits, Mini has decided to fill the (unwanted) role of rooster in the household. She crows, or rather chirps now at 5am. On the dot. Morning after bleary eyed morning after I can’t go on morning. It’s too early. It really is.
There is nothing it seems that will curtail her early morning rises. We have tried leaving a “pre-breakfast pack” of dry cereal and juice in a squeezy bottle. We have left puzzles and books at the foot of her bed. All are ignored in favour of the best toys-her parents. She is delighted with herself when she flings open our bedroom door and creates us with a pre-dawn chorus of “Papa!”Mamma!” before proceeding to jump on our bed. I guess it’s just one of those instances where we give thanks that she is fit and able and capable of climbing out of her bed herself and coming to visit us. And I am thankful for that. I just wish she could bottle that boundless energy and be less rooster, more an animal that enjoys a lie in in the mornings, a cat perhaps?That’s it Mini, be more cat. Your parents will thank you for it!