We have a new alarm clock. It’s way more effective than the old one as it’s pretty much impossible to ignore without unpleasant consequences. It requires no batteries, and has proven very reliable in recent weeks.
Every morning between 06:30 and 06:45, I awaken to the pitter patter of footsteps coming toward the bed. This is followed by K’s sweet voice saying, “Daddy, I have to go poop”. I generally roll over and respond with “You know what to do”.
The next couple of minutes are spent listening to him struggle to get his pants and night-time underwear off – it’s basically the same as hitting the snooze button. The silence is sometimes broken by a running commentary, like, “Oh, that’s a stinky one”.
Eventually I hear, “Dad, I’m finished”, which means sleep time is effectively over. I have no choice but to roll out of bed and begin my day by wiping the bum of a 2-year old boy. On the plus side, it also means that my day can only get better. Usually…