When I think of mornings, I think of Garfield (the cartoon cat) dragging his furry fat self out of bed, eyes half-opened, corners of his mouth turned down to reflect his oh-so-sarcastic witticisms. The tagline is usually something like "I don't do mornings" or "I try to take one day at a time but several attacked me all at once."
Now that I'm not a singleton or a DINK, I can't really say "I don't do mornings." I HAVE to do mornings. And, in the midst of the screaming, crying, arguing over what to wear and asking for more waffles, more cereal, more juice or more anything to keep Mommy from her hot cup of Joe, I find the solace of hot water mixed with beans from a distant rainforest, roasted and ground to almost perfection, just sitting there waiting for me to...
SLURP IT UP because I have to go.
GOOD MORNING, GARFIELD!
Now that I'm not a singleton or a DINK, I can't really say "I don't do mornings." I HAVE to do mornings. And, in the midst of the screaming, crying, arguing over what to wear and asking for more waffles, more cereal, more juice or more anything to keep Mommy from her hot cup of Joe, I find the solace of hot water mixed with beans from a distant rainforest, roasted and ground to almost perfection, just sitting there waiting for me to...
SLURP IT UP because I have to go.
GOOD MORNING, GARFIELD!
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