As I sat down to write this morning, I knew what I wanted to write about. And the word that came to my mind was a fable. But after looking up a definition of "Fable", I don't know if this is going to happen. According to Wikipedia (which is not considered a reliable source for any formal educational papers... just so you know... but reliable enough for my blog),
A fable is a succinct story, in prose or verse, that features animals, mythical creatures, plants, inanimate objects, or forces of nature which are anthropomorphized (given human qualities), and that illustrates a moral lesson (a "moral"), which may at the end be expressed explicitly in a pithy maxim.
I'm not sure if this is going be a real fable but here goes.
Once upon a time, in a land close to the Canadian border, it was Friday night. Luke said he would take the baby after I fed him so I could go back to sleep and enjoy a "sleeping in" Saturday. I was excited.
As Saturday morning approached, Hudson woke up REALLY extra early, which barely ever happens. It was 4:50am. So I got out of bed, fed him and popped him straight back to bed, knowing he would go back to sleep. Around 7:30am, Luke woke me up with Hudson in hand. I fed him again to "start" the day and went back to sleep. This is where I don't know what I was doing. I should've asked for a wake-up call.
So I proceeded to fall back asleep. I dreamed of many things. And almost every scene had apple trees in them, full of apples and my angst over asking permission to pick the apples. (there are lots of trees in our neighborhood with apples that nobody picks and I want them. ALL of them. Not just for myself, but to give away. I just hate the thought of good food rotting on the ground... sorry, sidetracked.) I also dreamed of a pinata that I filled with bottles of cheap bubble bath, that somebody put our house on the market without our permission, something about a spaceship and something about quilts that cost $1700 a piece. That's just what I can remember. I know there was more.
And then I woke up...
This was not that refreshed feeling of being rested and "catching up" but more like, WHERE'S THE COFFEE because I feel like a train wreck. And then I looked at the clock. 11am. Oh, that explains the train wreck part.
In my head, "sleeping in" as I imagined it was more like 9am, getting up and eating breakfast and then getting on with my day, feeling all rested and caught up from a crazy week. Now it's almost noon, the day half wasted and that groggy feeling of sleeping way, WAY too long is not going away. So lame. And I have to live with the fact that I had hours of really weird dreams. I'm not going to try and interpret them or I may need to call a counselor.
Not that calling a counselor is bad. Just to be clear. Been there, done that. Probably doing that again. Sidetracked again!
So the moral of my story is don't sleep in too late. It wastes half the day, you feel a little bit poopy (trying to keep this "family friendly" folks) and you wonder what you can do to remedy the fact that you were so groggy, and don't make fresh coffee but nuke the slightly warm old coffee because the caffeine headache is on your tail. Another terrible activity that I've never partaken in until this very morning. DO NOT DO IT. That's all I can say about that.
I want to make sure that my story fits into a fable's definition. I think it was a "succinct story" and it did feature plants and inanimate objects AND forces of nature... not necessarily human qualities given to them but I'll just ignore that. But there's definitely a moral to the story and I'm not sure what a "pithy maxim" is but I'll look it up right now.
Okay, it's some sort of forceful saying. Here's mine. DO NOT DO IT.
I think I've succeeded. I hope you learned something this morning. I did. n't.