Good Thursday to Ya’.
Reeve, my partner, dislikes mornings and prefers to make the rest of us do the morning routine, that is … the “barn chores.”
This is the case even though I wake him with 10,000 lux of good, vitamin D-production-helping, filtered “sunshine” – artificially-produced from my alarm clock. Ten minutes later the [admittedly very fake sounding] birds begin to chirp.
But still, even with that and all of the cuddling and warm welcome into a bright new HAPPY DAY, came the whining.
I’m trying to sleep. Wwa wa wa wa WAAAA!
Do you and he realize that I work for myself and often from home. There is ZERO reason beyond how much I love his whiney-ass for me to be getting up today any sooner than 9:00 a.m. Central Standard Time, but it was 5:15 a.m. (CST!) when I started MY movement in order to accommodate HIS low-involvement morning at 6:30 a.m. CST, one full hour plus an additional quarter of an hour after I’ve been providing absolutely necessary and daily critter care while waking up. All of this so he can run out the door after his shower.
It’s coo’. No worries. Been dealing wit’ dat crap fa’ yeehrs.” But last night …
… and continuing into this morning I was harassed whilst he and his fellow Facebookers (I know who you all are!) discussed my music of choice last evening on “The Facebook.”
So, yes … Barry Manilow reminds me of my parents and I was listening to a few songs that reminded me of growing up and of their love for one another. Is that so wrong?
After the “Wawawawa” this morning, what does he do? He rolled over to show me his latest post in the string (Facebook conversation) about me enjoying a little Copacabana [haha!].
Be sure to watch the link above at (at least from 3:25 to the end) for the bell ringing and see how I dance at home for Reeve.
The message? Don’t hate on the Bar-meister. Unless he does something awful, then fully have at hatin’ on him. Until then, show some respect to your elders.
And that includes Um Kalthum.
Her name is normally written in Arabic script, “obviously,” and you will see it in various other spellings. I normally write it in al-Arabiya’, so many apologies to Mrs. K.
That playlist (linked to her name above) is dedicated to Reeve’s own Um (mother) who delighted me in my early years of my Arabic training with long voice messages on our (yes) answering machine. I barely understood any if it. She knew that but did it anyway.
Also, because of her own love of Um Kalthum’s beautiful voice and music. For BK. 🙂
And, because … what? I’d dedicate the morning’s post to whine-o-rama Riva-a-licious and his just-snorian chants to please “just ten more minutes?”
Girl, this ain’t Ellen or Oprah: we ain’t givin’ nothin’ away. No nose clamps to help you stop your snoring, no free Um Kalthum CDs, and no new cars.
Get yer a.s.s. up, “yo.”
Or as my own “um” says, “Up ‘n at ’em,” to which I replied, “uhhhhhhhggggghh. Just ten more minutes!!!”
Mom: Are you up? Are you on your feet?!
Me, face buried in pillow, body nuzzled under blankets: Yeesss!
Maybe there’s still an inkling of hope for Reeve after all.
AND good morning!