When I was a younger human my Saturday morning routine went something like this. Wake up around 10, lie in bed until 10:30. I then would get up and go downstairs to the diner in my building and have a nice leisurely breakfast. At that point I would go back upstairs to my apartment take a shower and start my weekend.
Today I woke up at 6:30 because the baby was crying, and after arguing with my wife for 10 minutes about who should get up, I lost and got up to take care of the monkey. After feeding him milk and hanging out with him for a while, I needed to take the dog out and decided that I would go and get muffins for the family for breakfast. After being dragged by the dog for 10 blocks I picked up the muffins and was dragged back home. Jambo almost grabbed a pigeon a couple of times but was a little too slow. We then had a lovely breakfast for 10 minutes until monkey started making horrible choking noises while eating the muffin. He then threw up all over himself and his high chair what looked like a cascading waterfall of milk filled with blue chunks resembling blueberries and chunks of muffin pieces. After a long arduous cleaning it is now 8:30 AM and i'm ready for the next hurdle of the day.
At the end of the day I wouldn't trade it for anything, but while cleaning up vomit I couldn't help but think about that former life and how much easier things were!
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