My peaceful slumber was doth disturbed by two devious dwarves who usurped my comfortable bed last night. At 6:45 AM, an unruly mop top with a toothless grin stuck its head out of my bedroom doorway, wagged her tongue at me and slammed the door. I woke up with a grunt and stumbled to my bedroom. I tried to forcefully regain authority of my bed, but the devious dwarves squealed and kicked their six year-old vigorous limbs onto my back while asserting that I was "a big giant poo-poo head".
Irate, I told them to go bother Shannon instead. They leapt from my bed with glee. I settled into my pillows with a contended sigh as I heard the sound of my cousin groaning from her room followed by the churlish laughter of our charges.
Peace did not reign for long, as I was rudely awoken again at 8 AM. Shannon kicked open my door and with grim sleeplessness declared, "Get the fuck up. Right now. I can't deal with these kids on my own."
The morning got better, I guess. Pancake House cures any early-morning scorn.
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