Saturday Morning Expectations

I am always the first one up.  On purpose.  I love the quiet.  And when the other beings in my house begin to emerge, there are Saturdays when it takes everything in me to be congenial.

Don’t get me wrong…I live with very good people and pretty good dogs.  Neither are in the habit of demanding more than their fair share, certainly no more than I demand of them.  But I do wonder if there are times I could be content living the hermit life.

Today began as most Saturdays: I settle onto my living room couch with my coffee, computer, Weekend section from the Washington Post and other sundry things I intend to read, basking in the aloneness, the solitude, those precious minutes when there’s no one about.  I expect at least an hour before anyone will bother me so I’m all set.

It’s at this exact moment, ass on couch and coffee in mid-slurp, when Mac gets up from his cozy bed in the hidey-hole near the heat vent in the kitchen and begins to stare me down. Usually he gives me no notice, waiting instead for the real pushover, my husband JB, to come padding down the stairs.  Most mornings JB can’t even consider getting his first cup of coffee before Mac and Izzy (our Beagle-Jack Russell) have sprung out of their beds at the sound of his familiar footsteps and are doing their little yappy dance, requesting an audience for their morning constitutional.

For some reason, though, Mac will not wait and starts an incessant whine; Izzy is still lying in her bed, not bothered by the annoyance.  But this one has staying power.  He will whine and moan as long as it takes to get what he wants.  I try to ignore him but after a few minutes it’s really no use.  I’m not a cruel person, but I’m no pushover either.  I have a pretty strong will of my own, having raised two willful boys (I have NO idea where they got that from) and from teaching middle school.

But I can take it no longer.  I get up.  And the day begins.  Mac, with Izzy in tow, gets his way.  They do their business and get their treats, which I’m sure is what they really wanted.  I pour another cup of coffee and sit back down on the couch, sandwiched by dogs on either side of me.  Shortly thereafter, my husband emerges and the dogs take off for their preferred person.  He gives them another treat (of course!), turns on oldies music (aka the music we grew up with) in the kitchen and begins talking (he’s a good man, but a real talker);  my silence is broken.  I guess it’s time to get over myself and join the human race.  I make muffins.

Saturday Morning Expectations

7 thoughts on “Saturday Morning Expectations

  1. I adore the precious minutes before anyone in my house emerge too. You have me picturing a dog giving me the stare down until I give in. That’s how our old dog was for sure! Great slice!

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  2. I guess we had similar mornings today. Living in Spain sometimes I miss the really early mornings, since here in winter until 9 am is dark, and usually I don’t go to bed until midnight hehehe. So today, getting up at 6:30 am was really a treat. I love the way you write and describe your morning. You have a way that brings the atmosphere of your living room with its aromas and sounds to my own space. Thank you for sharing!

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  3. Like you I enjoy the quiet of the morning before anyone else wakes up. I’m usually the first one up on weekends. We have a guinea pig and the minute she hears anyone, she starts squeaking and playing with her bell. It’s adorable (like your poochies). You captured the scene very well.

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  4. I love your opening and your closing! And certainly a lot in between. I love the final line: “I make muffins!’ Too funny. You certainly capture the moment when your quiet is interrupted. I wrote a piece today about babysitting a kitten with my cat. There’s a lot going on all the time. Maybe tomorrow you’ll get your quiet.

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  5. Ugh! Why can’t we just get one hour to ourselves?? I don’t have dogs, but my children don’t seem to understand that Saturday is the day they should get extra sleep – and leave me alone for an hour in the morning! I love the way you describe your comfy spot on the couch.

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