I usually wake up around 5 am. My body clock is set that way. And I am also very disciplined about following a routine. The other very obvious reason is my aging bladder. Well, what did I think was going to happen to me after 3 big kids? They were all such huge babies and so cute. Just like me. I can prove it. I have all my baby pictures. My dad was a photographer. And a damn good one.
I walk my stiff back and long legs to the 3 rooms of the children who ruined sex for me. Seriously, I hate having sex now. All 3 of them are fast asleep. They look so adorable sleeping. I sigh thinking of the lunches I forgot to prepare last night. Closing the doors behind I smile wondering which one of them is my favorite. The eldest one who kicked like a soccer player giving me sleepless nights during pregnancy. Or the yogi who kept stretching like she was an over-trained athlete relaxing post-workout. And then the littlest one, who never stopped hiccupping. Hiccupping, is that even a word? I wonder! And then I remember that they all are equally annoying, so no one gets to be my favorite. Huh! Lunches, I sigh again, a deep one.
I am now dragging my tired feet towards the glorious stairs, I don’t want to start the day just yet. I want to dance, right now. On all my favorites in my underwear. Yes, I don’t want to make lunches or do never-ending loads of laundry. Or kill another spider lurking behind the door, before the little ones see it and get scared. All I want to do is dance in my underwear.
Even my thoughts do not stop my feet that are so used to the morning routine. I realize this halfway down the stairs. My mouth feels dry and yearns for the morning black coffee. But turns out there is a big hurdle for me to jump literally to get to that cup of coffee. I close my eyes and grunt staring at it at the foot of the stairs.
A man laying head down on my quite dirty stairs. Why is there a man sleeping on my stairs? And why is he wearing a black hoodie? I stare at it for a few more seconds and then sit my very big behind (thanks to the kids) on the step. This is not good. This is so going to delay our whole schedule. Kids will definitely miss the bus because there will cops and ambulance, huh! I will need to drive them to school. I should get dressed, cannot afford another embarrassing encounter. Great, just what I needed to make my day more hectic. I mentally calculate every hurdle and hiccup that can ruin this day. And then I make the call, “Good morning! I have an emergency. There is a stranger lying dead on my stairs and I need someone to come and take it away. I have to make lunches for my kids.”
Black Coffee and Grey Stories 