It didn’t really matter yesterday, because we didn’t have anywhere to be, heathens that we are. We slept in and woke up when we felt like it! Yeah, if anybody had been checking in on us, we would have looked like horrible slackers, but who cares? We were well-rested and happy. Today was a whole 'nother story.

I vaguely remember smacking the alarm clock when it went off at the appointed time. Usually Tad gets up before the alarm, but not today. So the alarm smacking meant that everyone woke up late this morning, not just me. Totally my fault.

“I petted your purse,” Tad reported groggily when he came back upstairs with his coffee. “It was sitting on the couch. I thought it was the cat.”

I nodded. I was still trying to work out the nuances of getting my teeth brushed, never mind making it down the stairs for coffee. I resorted to parking The Boy in front of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers with a bowl of oatmeal so that I could figure out the rest of what needed to be done to get us to school only sort of late.

I was relieved to see, when we pulled up at the preschool, that we were not the only ones having a hard launch. Ten minutes after the bell had rung, the parking lot was swarming with minivans. Sleepy children dragging backpacks made their way slowly toward the door as their double-parked parents slugged coffee. I suspected at least a few of them were still wearing pajamas. I had been tempted.

Back at home, things were not getting any better. Tad was trying gamely to do the usual Monday-morning chores without a whole lot of success.

“I feel like I’m trying to clean somebody else’s house and I don’t know what anything is or where it goes,” he said, picking The Boy’s stuffed Godzilla toy up by one leg and looking at it like he’d never seen it before. “Whatever, man. I hope they still pay me.”

How many months until we get to fall back again? I want my hour and I want it now.