Morning Person

At precisely 7:00 am this morning, I heard a crystal-clear, beautiful, innocent infant’s voice...moaning in a resigned sigh of reluctant acceptance that the morning was here whether he liked it or not. Every time he does this, it makes me laugh.

I was thinking today about our upcoming trip to Greece. I have quite a bit of anxiety about how he’ll do on the plane. I was imagining it being 7:00 am, and everyone is tired from a 10-hour flight. Their jet-lagged, bloodshot eyes, half comatose from watching five movies in a row, and all of a sudden from somewhere in the middle of the plane, there’s a very loud, very pure voice saying, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!” And I imagine all of these people groaning, and I’ll be laughing thinking, “Welcome to my life every Saturday morning. He never lets me sleep past 7:00 am.”

And how can you be mad, because he’s just a seven-month old baby, and he's adorable beyond belief? I’m not sure how he became a morning person, because neither of us are, but he is.