20 September 2012

A Morning Gone Awry

I made my daughter cry.

Not on purpose, mind you. It was purely accidental. But still, I made her cry. And scared her half to death at the same time, which made me feel even worse.

You see, I'm an insomniac. So I'm generally sitting at the table drinking coffee a looooooong time before the rest of the family wakes. Most mornings, as I sit drinking my good coffee and enjoying the peace and quiet of a home asleep, I journal or I blog. When I write, I'm very focused. It's one of my favorite things, so I give it my full attention.

At some point, generally during my second cup, the home is filled with a rumbling, puffing earthquake rolling down the stairs. This is the Furball following my sweet wife down the stairs. When his bladder is full first thing in the morning, he flies pell mell down those stairs, huffing and puffing as he makes his way to the back door, where he stands looking at me like I'm a total idiot for not having it opened for him already. He doesn't exactly sneak up on a person.

Then my wife slowly walks into the kitchen mumbling something that kind of sounds like a morning greeting as she gives me a peck on her way to the coffee pot.

Later, my little Princess will come down, holding Pink and Snuggle Elephant tightly in her little arms, rubbing her eyes and thumping her way down the stairs. That child makes a wee bit of noise on the stairs. I think she prides herself on it.

Normally. That's how my day starts.

Today was not a normal day.

Today, as I sat with my journal, enjoying the completely undisturbed peace and quiet, I reached for my coffee cup. I didn't have to look, since my hand knows the way.

Today, however, my hand was interrupted midway to the precious coffee cup. By my precious daughter's head.

It seems she had managed, for the first time in her life, to come down the stairs and walk into the kitchen without making a single noise. This is completely against the law of physics and nature. I'm pretty sure Einstein wrote a paper about it. Children are noisy. They are not capable of making it to their parents side without making a noise.

But she did.

And when she did, she threw herself at me to give me a hug.

At the same moment I reached for the coffee.

My hand hit her head, her head hit the wall, she hollered, I jumped halfway to the ceiling and screamed like you can only scream when you suddenly find someone right at your side in a dark room, which scared her. After my heart started beating again, I realized what had happened and reached down to hug her.

But it was too late. I had already made my Princess cry.