6:23 a.m.
"Daddy... Daddy!"
The call comes every morning, typically within a few minutes of 7 a.m. Sometimes sing-song style..."DAAA-dddyyy... DAAAAA-dddyy," sometimes as a sharp staccato burst... "DAD... DAD!" This morning it came at 6:23 a.m. Ava, calling out from her room. The sing-song variety.
I rolled out of bed and stumbled into her room and said good morning, asked what she wanted. (Always the same answer to this question)
"I want to go downstairs."
"Ava," I said, "It's early... do you know what time it is?"
"Thirties."
"What time?"
"It's thirties! It's wake-up time!"
Two minutes later Madison was up and came walking into Ava's room with the same request, "let's go downstairs."
So we did.
The call comes every morning, typically within a few minutes of 7 a.m. Sometimes sing-song style..."DAAA-dddyyy... DAAAAA-dddyy," sometimes as a sharp staccato burst... "DAD... DAD!" This morning it came at 6:23 a.m. Ava, calling out from her room. The sing-song variety.
I rolled out of bed and stumbled into her room and said good morning, asked what she wanted. (Always the same answer to this question)
"I want to go downstairs."
"Ava," I said, "It's early... do you know what time it is?"
"Thirties."
"What time?"
"It's thirties! It's wake-up time!"
Two minutes later Madison was up and came walking into Ava's room with the same request, "let's go downstairs."
So we did.
posted by Dad at 7:23 AM
1 Comments:
Okay! I understand this is late, I couldn't help but snooping through all your archives and loving this post.
I so curious, it wasn't Christmas, what was downstairs?
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