This week has been crazy. I’m getting ready for my new job and trying to wrap things up for my old job. Saturday I was up working until 4:30 am. I told Rachel to wake me up in the morning for church. We have the best church in the whole world, I love it. When I woke up to an empty house at 10:05 am, I realized that she let me sleep instead waking me. Although she claims that she did try to wake me up… in her words, “Have you ever tried to wake you up? It’s not easy!”.
OK, so I’m not the easiest person to wake up when I’m tired. It’s true that when I was a kid and my parents needed to wake me up they once resorted to putting an ice cube in my hand. The ice cube melted, and I slept on… my son is the same way today, once he’s asleep, he’s posable… but I digress.
So, on the way to church, my son, who is brilliant and smarter than I ever was, asks him mother, “Where is daddy? Isn’t he going to church?”. My wife, who is excellent at everything responded, “Daddy was up late last night working while we were sleeping, then when we were all waking up daddy was going to sleep.” – you can see where this is going. – My 5 year old son pondered this for a second then responded, “oh – Daddy is nocturnal”. (What is the record multisyllabic word used correctly by a 5 year old?)
Ah yes, wisdom of the wise. I am nocturnal (according to my 5 year old son)… although I have a standing rule for my self that I must at least go out side and look at the sun at least once a day (The details of why this rule even exists is way beyond the scope of this post, let’s just say that this rule was put in to effect during my college days…. I have abided by it *mostly* ever since)