It doesn't happen often, not as often as it should. Most generally I've found mornings to be rather grim time, you know, the day plotted and planned looming on the horizon. Adulthood and all that jazz.
But this morning I had the distinct treat of waking up and not really knowing, or caring, what time it was. That in itself is unusual, five days a week reveille is 0530 with the race on to put the young one on the school bus at 0730 dressed for public with something in his belly. Today though? A slow easy rise out of the fog to a curiosity: who, what... why am I hearing music from the movie South Pacific? And at this volume?
Yup, I woke up to hear Bali Ha'i calling me into the day. Bloody Mary at about 85db. I climbed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and shuffled into the living room to find the little guy perched on a bar stool he'd centered at the perfect focal point of the stereo, rocking with the music and grinning. Turns out the young one, who to the world is officially deaf, had found the disc and pestered his momma into putting it on the big system. As it further turns out Omega loves that particular show and put the big system to work for what it's worth. Deaf? I'm really, really starting to doubt that. In any case our neighbors here in this little micro-beehive of an apartment were getting a serious dose of culture before lunch.
Like I said, it don't happen often, but it do happen. It happens just often enough to keep me believing that hope is not a fools errand. Hope your world treats you to something similar here in the near future. We all need the hope, and we all need those little events that keep hope worth having around. Via con dios, and enjoy the day.
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