Alarm Clock Ping Pong

Ugg. I am not a morning person. All you morning people make my head spin with confusion. Why would you possibly get up before eight o’clock if you weren’t forced to by some evil villain bent on ruling the world?

When I wake up in the morning and see the light shining through the windows, I know what is really going on. God has brought out the holy flashlight. I imagine Him sneaking into my room, shining His flashlight at me and belting out as only a father can,

“What you doing out of bed boy?!”

Nope, I don’t like mornings. My lovely bride starts work at 8:00 though, so get up we must. I don’t quite have to get up that early though, because I work from home, so she usually gets up at 6:45 and I usually get up at 8:00. It’s not fair, but for some reason I’m okay with that. So to facilitate this fabulous arrangement, we each have our own alarm clocks.

Enter Lent.

Yes, I know I should at the very minimum get up with my wife. She doesn’t have the benefit of working from home like I do, so it seems rather unfair. So of course, it’s one of my Lenten goals to actually get up in the morning, say around seven o’clock.

That is not what has happened yet. It works out the same way every morning.

Her alarm clock goes off at 6:45, she hits snooze, we snuggle for five minutes, it goes off again. Another snooze, another five min, and the next time she hits snooze, get up, and hops in the shower. Mine starts to go off at 7:00, and I start my snooze relay.

Did you see me miss something there? Oh yes, something was most definitely missed, but if you look close, it wasn’t me who missed it. She just hit snooze again, and didn’t turn her’s off. Now she’s in the shower, singing her favorite hits from the eighties, and her alarm is going off full bore.

Arrgh! So I roll the thirty yards across my bed to get to the clock while my room starts to sound more like a fire station as this bell will not stop ringing. I finally slap my hand down on the thing, but by this time, I’m so exahsted from all the effort to make it to the other side of the bed, that I collapse back into sleep.

Then mine starts going off. Aaaahhh! I hate noise! Kill the thing, kill it! So again, I race to the other side, by now rolled up like a burrito in our comforter with only one arm hanging out, slapping out in the general vicinity of the loud thing.

This goes on for at least half an hour. Back and forth like a ping pong ball. See?

Mornings are evil.

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