Monday, December 17, 2012

We Aren't Morning People

    My daughter and I have an extremely important routine that we follow almost every morning, especially those mornings when school and work means that we will wake to one of the most obnoxious sounds in the entire world: the alarm clock. If you are anything like me, that sound fills your very soul with dread. The end of sleep; the beginning of responsibility, obligations, and (gasp) daylight. Awful stuff. Our routine consists of 3 steps.
    Step 1: Every morning we start out by whining at each other. This whining does not consist of words but of a sort of 'uuuuuuuuaaaaann' sound that we alternate making towards each other. At this point, this sound is the only sound that we are really mentally capable of making; words are beyond us. Sometimes, towards the end of this step we will whine simultaneously to see who can whine the loudest. Winning the loudest whiner contest can put the loudest whiner in a good mood. 
    Step 2: This step has 3 options, which vary depending on mood.
       2a. If we are both in bad moods: We alternate snapping 'no' at each other for no real reason except to say no. We say no loudly and emphatically, just to be sure that the other one knows that we really mean it. Since both my daughter and I dearly love to say no, for any reason whatsoever, sometimes this part of the routine can turn our bad mood into a good mood. 
      2b: If one of us  is in a good mood but the other isn't: The one in a good mood will break into song. The song has either has no real words or the words make absolutely no sense. The person in a bad mood will order the singer to 'Shut up and stop making that racket,'  or some variation thereof. Everyone should keep in mind, good mood or not, this is still early in our routine and while at this point we may be able to form words, we are not able to string them together into logical sentences that anyone will understand. We are unable of communication at this time, even if we do seem to be communicating with each other on some level.  To be blunt, if I did not grow you in my womb, I am unable to communicate with you until about an hour after waking. The kiddo is a little more capable of communication at this point than I am, but not by much, and she mumbles, so good luck with that. 
     2c. On the rare occasion that we are both in a good mood: usually I will sing some stupid song that makes no sense while the kiddo laughs hysterically and suggests words when I get stuck. Again, these songs never make any sense, and neither one of us has what could be called a 'singing voice.' Frankly, I can make your ears bleed. After the song has ended, we may start snapping 'no' at each other, despite being in a good mood, because we just love to say no. In this case, however, we will not use a grumpy, emphatic no but a playful, snappish no accented with giggles. 

   Step 3.  My daughter will then go eat breakfast while I search for some sort of caffeine (anything will do) and sit in front of the computer until she needs me to fix her hair, which then proceeds to look like no one has even brushed it 5 minutes after I have fixed it. This is because she rolls all over the couch and rubs the back of her head on everything, making for extreme static. This never fails and there is no use fighting the process. She is gonna have that hair looking like bed hair no matter what I do.

   After this step we are safe to approach. However, it should be noted that this daily routine  is important to us and should never be interrupted by someone trying to converse with us. This could lead to injury, permanent disability, or even death by smart-ass sarcasm so extreme that the system goes into shock and tries to shut down in a type of 'you can't see me' line of defense. And while my daughter is not quite as smart-assy as me, she does have this glare-of-death. Not recommended. 

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