The boy would sleep until noon if the house was silent, but the girl has an internal alarm set for 7:00 (she sometimes hits snooze until 7:30). She does her best to let the sleeper slumber, but morning silence is often too lofty a goal for a two-year-old. She’s even polite about it, whispering with a sly look, “I wan’ go see Har’son. I be quiet.” She usually stays out of his room but passes the time on our bed where the temptations of the day are too much - the need for a snack, the need for a cartoon, laughs and stories told at the top of her voice. We’re lucky that morning usually brings enthusiasm, and the boy usually shows up with his own version, explaining what he’s going to do that day before his brain is awake and fully capable of explaining such adventures.
The dog sleeps the longest of anyone. He crawls out of bed or from under it at around 10 or 11, visits the outdoors to take care of some business, and then, overcome by the strenuous morning, finds some safe nook of the house and takes a nap. All three are most awake at bedtime. The dog whines at me until I chase him and growl at him, the dude requests that we either fight or play hide and seek, and the girl is up for anything and sometimes just runs in circles in the excitement of it all.
A couple nights ago we had our maiden hot dog roast in the fire pit in the backyard. The Pud was eager to get cooking and tossed in a ‘dog as soon as the fire was burning. She apologized when she realized that that’s not how it works. The boy showed her how to do it and cooked one for her and one for him, scraping both against the wood and bricks and ash as he should, and then ate both of them.
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