For once we didn't have anything going on last Saturday morning. There was no alarm, no need to get up early and get to work or drill, no event, no trips that required any kind of driving, just a chance to wake up slowly. That's what I got to do, wake up on my own time with the sunlight slowly filtering in past the curtains to fall on my still slumbering Beloved and two wide-awake and grinning kids.
Yes, the boys were up and just waiting for either Mommy or Daddy to open their eyes so the play can begin. Sadly, I was the one who did.
Still, lying in my futon with both boys engaged in an all out war that involved them rolling around in their blankets and giggling just to break off and attack the nearest parent (To be repelled with tickling, sending them into shrieks of laughter), it was... nice.
No, it was more than that, it was a feeling that I have come to enjoy as a father... contentment.
And it's not a bad thing at all.
Sure, the morning ended in tears when a 'ghost' took a head dive in his blanket and bonked his head on his brother, but for 15 minutes, the world was far away and all that mattered was that late summer morning in a bedroom and my boys enjoying a family moment with their parents that needed nothing else added.
No, not a bad thing, or way to wake up, at all.
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