Manic Mornings

 Blearily, I slapped at the snooze button. "I have to work."

"No you don't. It's Saturday."

"No," I said, momentarily confused. "It's Friday." My mind struggled to wake.

Joseph yawned and shoved his arms under me. "No. The teacher said to have a good weekend. It's Saturday."

A feeling of bliss overcame me. "Really?" I smiled and turned off my alarm before burrowing deeper under the covers with a softly snoring Elizabeth and a sleepy Joseph. I couldn't figure out why I'd turned my alarm on the night before, but I was happy to drift back to sleep. 

Something niggled my brain. Something was wrong. Why were the kids in bed with me if it was Saturday? My fuzzy mind snatched on to this oddity. Chad takes the kids Friday nights and drops them off Saturday mornings. If this was a Saturday, why did I have them?

I struggled to remember what day of the week it was and if there was a reason the kids had stayed with me. It was so cold. Maybe it was too cold for them to stay at Chad's place heated only by space heaters.

I closed my eyes. That was it for sure.

Dimly, I heard a key in the door. What was Chad doing coming over on a Saturday?

Like cold water, the realization hit me. It was Friday and I was late for work. I jumped out of bed and spent the next twenty minutes racing to get out the door. It threw me off the whole day. And all day long, I wanted nothing more than to snuggle back in bed with the kids.

Do you ever have mornings like that?