Not A Leave It To Beaver Kind of Morning

I don’t believe that I ever watched an episode of Leave It To Beaver that was like this. In fact, I’m fairly certain that I didn’t.

I woke up this morning to find a little arm thrown across my face. Which was kinda strange because I had gone to bed by myself. All alone. Mason had apparently crawled into my bed some time during the night. And he didn’t seem content with just sleeping in my bed. He wanted my spot in my bed as well.

It was about time for my alarm to go off anyway, so I went ahead and showered. As I was making my way to Taylor Belle’s room to wake her up to get ready for school, I noticed a pile of quilts on the couch with what appeared to be my daughter underneath. Sure enough, there she was. Asleep on the couch. That seemed odd because she was working on homework in her room when I had gone to bed last night. Well, gee Wally. What do you think happened? Maybe she had tried to get in my bed, but Mason beat her to it.

I rubbed Taylor Belle on the shoulder and said “good morning baby girl, it’s time to get up”, and noticed movement under the quilts, so I went back to my bathroom to start getting ready for work. As I finished drying my hair, I realized that I didn’t hear the water running from Taylor’s shower, so I went to her a second time and told her that it was time to get up. Having finished my makeup and still hearing no sound of movement, I went to her a third time. Before I could completely get the words out of my mouth, Taylor screamed, “oh my God mom, I’m up”, as she threw off the quilts. She was annoyed that I had repeatedly told her it was time to get up. I must admit that I was a little annoyed myself. But for a different reason. And I must further admit that I had thoughts run through my head that probably would have made June cringe.

Still hopeful that I was going to be able to salvage the situation and make it a good morning, I went to wake up Mason. You have to know Mason to understand. He wakes up happy and is in a good mood ninety-nine percent of the time. I turned on the light, said good morning and told him that he needed to get up. I then cooked his breakfast and went back to check on him. No movement. Seriously? Mason usually jumps right up ready to go. I told him again that it was time to get up and went and packed his lunch for school. Still no movement. Frustrated, I told him that he would be grounded from everything he loved and held dear if he didn’t get up out of bed. He frantically jumped up and accused me of not trying to wake him up. Once again, seriously?

It’s times like these that I have to ask myself – what would June have done? And, more importantly, where the hell is Ward when I need him?