A Morning Such As This

She hears them....

They're not even attempting to speak in hushed voices. She's half asleep but able to make out a few words; Mine. Downstairs. Waffles. Give it back. Ouch!

With a heavy sigh, Miss Spoken turns in her bed and begins the process of determining just what the hell time it is. This is made all the more difficult because of the infection that has taken up residence in her left eye. Her right eye is telling her that it's still dark outside. It's also dark inside except for the crack of light beneath her door which lets her know that The Boy and Boss Lady have made their way downstairs.

Shit.

She cracks the curtain of crust over her left eye and stares at the alarm clock. It's 5:45 in the fucking morning! That can't be right. She pulls the clock closer to her face. It's still 5:45.  Her mouth opens and out pours a chorus of profanity but nobody hears.

She kicks off the covers and starts to feel her way to the bathroom but is hindered by the gauntlet of oversized Legos that litter the floor. And the thing about oversized Legos is that they are made by The Devil who, with his underworldly knowledge of such things, made them large enough to impale every tender spot of a foot which is the entire foot.

She falls into the bathroom, cursing the day she was born. And when her ass hits the splatter that The Boy left on the toilet seat, she curses him, too. How is it that he has the dexterity to connect a bat to a ball, can balance quite nicely on a skateboard in motion, can stand on his head for fuck's sake, but he cannot manage to piss directly into the toilet bowl without hitting the seat or the floor or the ceiling or the damn window?? Miss Spoken thinks he's fucking with her.

Miss Spoken takes a deep breath and politely tells her mind to stop trying to get her hands to rip her hair out. She takes her piss-stained ass into the shower, carefully stepping around little plastic figurines of Strawberry Shortcake and more fucking Legos that are laid out in the tub like a forgotten minefield.

Telling herself that she will start this morning over as soon as she is sufficiently caffeinated, she steps out of the shower nude (because why would a towel be readily available on a morning such as this) and is met by Boss Lady.

Boss Lady smiles at her mother who is dripping wet and trying to find a towel or a robe or a sheep dog or something to dry herself off with. Boss Lady is clearly considering the fact that her mother is naked and then says this... "I see your butt. Don't worry Mom...I won't laugh."

And this is not the first time Boss Lady has told her this which makes Miss Spoken think that this little five year old is fucking with her, too.