This Morning

This morning was like most mornings.  I woke up at five-thirty.  By six I was dressed, had coffee brewing and was waiting for the newspaper to be delivered.  It arrived at ten after six.  Even though I'd been waiting and I saw the delivery guy from the window, I waited until he'd left our block before retrieving the newspaper.  I don't know why, but I always wait until he's gone before I open the door.  I think this stems from an incident years ago with a different delivery person.  In that instance, I happened to check for the paper at the very moment it was being delivered.  It was startling to encounter this person standing outside my door.  Plus, I felt like by opening the door just as he arrived it looked like I'd been anxiously waiting and I wanted him to know it.  This was not true in that case.  I was not trying to passively reprimand him for his tardiness in any way, it was just an act of pure coincidence.  Nonetheless, I felt a little bad about it.  Since then, I've gone out of my way to avoid the paper guy.  I've also learned to always check the little security peephole before opening the door.  If the paper's not there, I quickly close the door and open the shade on the window a bit so I can watch for its arrival.

Once I had the newspaper, I settled in to scan it quickly.  I need to be quick because I'm never certain when N is going to come down and read the comics with me.  I like to have that section open and ready when he shows up.  He sets his alarm for six-forty but sometimes he gets up earlier.  This morning, he showed up at six-thirty.  He entered the room with a smile and a bit of a dramatic arm wave.  Once on my lap. he dozed a bit before sitting up and peering at the paper.  I like to watch his face as he reads, waiting for some change in his sleepy, stoic expression.  A tiny upturn to the corner of his mouth is the only indication he found something amusing.  He's usually quiet as he reads.  When he's finished, he lets me know which ones he likes and any he doesn't understand.  This morning there were a couple of each.  After a short discussion, I carried him to the couch in the family room, threw a blanket on him and went back to the kitchen.  I worked on the crossword puzzle while he slept.

Around ten after seven I heard movement upstairs.  I began preparing N's "coffee" and woke him.  I hate to wake him up when he's sleeping so soundly but I've learned it's the best course of action.  He takes a certain amount of pride in the fact that he and I are the early risers.  It upsets him greatly if wakes up and finds his older brother sitting at the counter eating breakfast.  I set the coffee on the counter and N crawled off the couch.  As he sat at the counter, the sounds from upstairs grew more distinct.  It was evident brother and mother were up and about.  N began taking bigger sips, gulps even.  He finished the last of it just as B appeared in the doorway.  "Ah, just in time," he quipped.  "Dad and I just finshed reading the paper and drinking our coffee!"

A good morning, indeed.