Sunday is the only day we can wake up and not rush off to school, an activity or begin an early morning tutor session. I look forward to Sunday morning all week, lying in bed just a little bit longer (even if I'm really just half-sleeping) and letting the kids play more Wii before 8 am than they do all Monday through Saturday.
But Sunday morning often comes at a hefty price, a lesson I've learned the hard way, more times than I care to admit.
Because Sunday morning to Lucy is also known as 'all bets are off' day. With Mom and Dad nestled in bed, she has carte blanche to channel her inner rock star and trash the place. Sometimes she'll practice her cutting skills (with kid scissors), leaving scraps of paper all over the house -- once including some important documents in her project.
On goes the office door lock.
Other times, she'll make herself breakfast, a healthy choice of string cheese, old candy I didn't know we had and Fig Newtons her grandparents left behind months ago (on a shelf even I need a step stool to reach).
On goes the pantry lock.
Sure, it's extremely frustrating to have to deal with the ruins after Lucy wreaks havoc, but an extra hour of rest is sometimes that worth it.
This morning, Lucy decided it was a good day for hot chocolate. Who can blame her after witnessing a rare California snow yesterday. She grabbed a packet of the powdery stuff, got herself a snowman mug from the top shelf, and must have looked around for some warm liquid to add to her cup.
The coffee pot sat on the counter, with freshly-brewed liquid gold that Jeff had set via timer before heading off to bed last night. Lucy helped herself to the thermos (something we purchased to avoid small hands on a coffee burner) and poured Newhall Coffee's California Blend all over the counter, dripping into the cabinets and through the cracks of the floor, with a drop or two actually hitting the mug.
Life Lesson #35 You Snooze, You Lose
Somebody, somewhere is telling me that my days of relaxing are officially over. Because not only am I not willing to pay for a few minutes of half-assed sleep with my beloved caffeine, I have a feeling that when the Sunday morning does arrive that our house hasn't been torn apart, we'll be needing that coffee after waiting up all night for my strong-willed daughter to finally get home from Saturday night.