Tuesday morning, 6:20 a.m.
Mid-way through decaf coffee, which only annoys me in its uselessness.
Harper is watching Dora save something from the something in three easy steps. And Dora uses a map, not GPS. ..a disproportionately large-headed girl after my own heart.
Cinnamon rolls baking. . . . reminding me that it's finally Fall. Perfect.
I think Harper might be just a little chilly, so I wrap a blanket around her, which she kicks off. "No blankie. You have it."
I accept and settle in to check the weather amid the hum of the city: The occasional siren, car doors closing, engines starting, the rumble of garbage trucks. Everyone's awake.
Wait.. garbage trucks?! OH CRAP.
Y'all know how to dance goes from here - sweaty head, pajama pants, wet flip-flop feet striking out across the grass, pretty much looking like something out of the attic of Jane Eyre..
Two hands full of cardboard from the inside trash, when I realize I can't open the back door without disrupting the stack of Jenga'd boxes I'm balancing.
I cut my eyes at the small little lump on the couch with four potentially helpful appendages. On a whim, I give it a try. After all, she surprises me every day:
Me: Harper, can you please open the door for Mommy?
Harper: Oooh, boxes. Yes!
Me: Yes, boxes. I'm taking them to the trash can. Can you help?
Harper: Oooh, trash can!
Me: (resorting to cave woman talk) Yep. The door. Open. Please?
Harper: Oh-Kaaaay! (doesn't budge.)
Me: Humph. (open door on my own, somehow, some way. hear me roar.)
Harper: Great job, Mommy! You did it! Yay! (claps)
Hahahaha! What a great little cheerleader you had! This happens to us all the time. I ran after the truck - empty handed - one time, just to let them know I needed two minutes to get my trash. They were in a kind and giving mood that day and waited for my pajama'ed self to haul the bags out to them!
ReplyDeletei'm clapping, too... if it makes you feel any better.
ReplyDeleteJust wait for next years installment...Conversations with Harper & Danica lol
ReplyDelete