I start my morning in solitude. It is my little quiet corner of the world while the rest of my household sleeps. I sip my coffee, write my blog, and start my day in a state of contentment. Except this morning when I heard our bedroom door open. Are. You. Kidding. Me.
Normally, my spouse doesn’t rouse himself from his slumber until around 8 am. His employment hiatus has afforded him this luxury plus last night, he took Bailey to the KISS concert, so I thought I was in the clear. As I gritted my teeth until my jaw hurt, I politely asked if he had a good time. And with that, a conversation began. One-sided, I might add. Me and my big mouth. He plopped himself on the couch and proceeded to show me the several million photos that he took. Let me just state for the record…..I don’t care. I don’t care that old men in elaborate makeup gave a great concert. I don’t care who the opening act was or that the line to get in to the venue took 45 minutes. He even went through a dissertation of where they ended up parking with the disclaimer, “I need for you to look at me, so I can visually show you”. Did anyone hear me say, “I don’t care”? Nope. Not even him. He even started by saying, “I know you don’t care, but…….”.
I am a creature of habit. This routine I have in the morning is comforting, quiet, and it is my alone time, since I hardly get that luxury anymore. I will say that I was at a loss of what subject matter I would be writing on today, but fortunately my adoring spouse provided the platform. Thanks, honey.
Before I close, I will share a tidbit of information that Bailey shared prior to going to the concert. As I called him to dinner, he told me that he had just woken up from a nap, which is why it felt like an eternity for him to come upstairs. I commented that the members of KISS probably took naps, too. His response, “Rock stars don’t take naps”. Good to know. Guess that is why I am not a rock star.