I go out every night and sleep all day.

Mornings are mean and ugly to us. I don't mind so much when there's sunshine and joy but hibernation becomes a viable consideration as winter clutches at me with her long, grey fingers. My misery is defined by rising from a delicious warm bed to undress and get into a wet shower knowing that eventually I must thrust myself out into the evil morning chill and possibly deal with an icy windshield. Time was, my determination to avoid the morning/winter combo was so strong that I would lock myself in my bedroom so as to obscure the fact that I was not preparing for school but dozing until the moment my ride arrived. Be assured, this is a frustrating scenario from the other side of the door and my offspring are payment in full for my years of misconduct induced by foreday foulness. On our best forenoon behavior, we are silent and slow, skulking about perfunctorily draped in fuzzy blankets until the bitter end when we are forced out into the mad, mad world of cheeriness. We have robbed even Lovin' Man of his morning smile. It is dry these days after years of fruitless efforts to squeeze even a drop of joy from the lot of us. Furthermore, he is villainized for his subtle efforts to arouse us before the day is half over.

"He taps on my door first thing in the morning!" (Say it isn't so.)

He dares to open the room darkening curtains. (I bought those on purpose.)

"He comes in and turns on the light when I'm sleeping!" (Punctuated by an annoyingly pleasant "Good Morning!")

I recently tried to implement a plan to improve our morning routine inspired by my bro who is notorious for waking on the wrong side of his bed (as if there's a correct side before noon). Mornings are more pleasant if you begin them with music is the theory. It's just I keep forgetting Positive and Encouraging and default to Pleading and Coaxing. The latter inevitably results in Nagging and Lecturing. And it's not even cold out yet.

My own mother banned MTV first thing in the morning when my bro and I were of such age. When Doves Cry may have been a scandalous way to start one's day but those short lived MTV mornings were the best of my bro, who became coffee dependent before he turned 16.

I envy those that enjoy the magic coffee to jumpstart a day. It smells good but my taste buds don't tolerate it. Anyhow, sleep tastes better.

He's not positive or encouraging but I may have to resort to Prince because I'm not that good of a morning person.