It’s Sunday Morning

For the first time in months I have been allowed to sleep in. Somehow my hubby most have gotten engrossed in a book or is playing a video game or he might even be watching TV. Harder still to believe that my phone did not jolt me awake at 6ish a.m. with a barrage of questions from my Dad. I roll over still hazy with sleep. I can sort of see through my blurry vision that it is 8:27 a.m.! Hard for me to believe it is really this late. Ever wonder why the morning muscle stretch feels so damn good? I don’t know either but what an awesome way to start a day. As I stretch out my limbs the phone rings. I reach over to grab the cordless from the night stand. I don’t even have to check the caller ID I know it is my Dad. “Trish?”
“Yes, Pops.”
“Did I wake you?”
“Nope. I just woke up, the cat was letting me pat her so I was lounging in bed. What do you need?”
“What day is it? Sunday?”
“It is. Did you take your pills this morning?” I can hear him open the cabinet door. “Wait a minute. I’ll do it now.” He puts his end of the line down. I can hear the fridge door open. I yell into the receiver,” drink water!”
“Water?”
“Yes, water.” After another minute of me trying to hear over the phone what is going on in my Dad’s apartment, from across the city, he picks up his line again. “Mission accomplished.” I can almost see him smile his goofy smile into the phone. ” Are you coming over today?”
“Yes, Dad. I come over everyday. But, first I need coffee and breakfast and a hot shower.”

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