Sounds wonderful, right? I’ve always been a morning person, and watching the sun come up is one of life’s greatest pleasures. For most of my adult life, I’ve been God’s alarm clock. She’s a party Gal, and tends to stay out too late, drink too much, and arise hung over sometime in the mid-afternoon. There’s nothing wrong with any of those things of course, and I’ve always done the best I could as Early Morning Stand-In (EMSI or “MC” for short). Somebody has to keep an eye on the universe after all, and if she’s disturbed before noon after an all-nighter, bad things happen.
Remember that whole Noah/flood/genocide thing involving an ark? Man was that ugly. And Job never did that twice, let me just tell you. He learned the first time, too.
But since I’ve become disabled, I tend to have stints of pain that keep me up late, and that leaves me in bed with her drunk naked butt and whoever she brings home until well after dawn. There was one time she brought home the entire Greek pantheon. That bunch can be pretty bawdy when they’re plastered. Lots of fun, but annoying if you’re the only sober one in the bed.
Oh, sorry. Tangent there. Where was I? Oh yes, last night.
It sucks being a cripple. The constant balancing act between being in pain and being so doped up you don’t remember what day it is can be an exhausting exertion.
There are times I allow the pendulum to swing too far one way or the other, and last night I was far on the pain side. I found myself unable to sleep or even just rest.
I didn’t manage to get to sleep until after 5 AM, and when I finally did, I was having some pretty good superhero and fantasy art sex dreams. That’s a very rare treat, and probably yet one more indication of my less than complete grasp on reality. Going a few rounds with Wonder Woman, Rogue, and sundry scantily clad vixens may have been a result of the work I had been doing on a blog for the friend I mentioned a few posts ago.
Damn. There really is a point to this post, and I’ll get to it eventually.
Ok, breakfast… God… pain… 5AM… Rogue… hmm… Rogue…
Ah yes. I’m back. Breakfast in bed. 6:30. Yes, at 6:30 my thirteen year old son woke me up to bring me breakfast and coffee in bed.
Now, as any parent in the world would tell you, the quite natural reaction is, “Whaddya want?”
Before I could really grasp the concept of the waffles and coffee however, my son headed me off at the pass. “I don’t want anything, so you know.”
“Is she pregnant?” I’m glad he took it the way I intended, which was in a joking fashion of course. He thought it was hilarious. In fact, he laughed a little too loud for my half-awake comfort.
Nah, though I’m sure that will be a credible concern in the not so distant future, I’m as sure as I could be (which is to say, not entirely but reasonably – you can never be entirely sure about these things…) that this wasn’t what was up.
Anyway, I’m appreciative. Somewhat suspicious, but appreciative. It was a very kind gesture from my terrific son, ulterior motive or not…
But I’ve got my eye on him, just in case.
Well, I will have my eye on him when I return from the land of super heroines.
Oh, and P.S. – I’m so tired, it took me nine hours to write this post.
I need a nap.
Where the art comes from:
::All artwork on this post subject to Creative Commons license linked to from the respective artists’ pages::