Sunday.
6 am.
Sunny, freezing cold, too tired, why am I awake?!
Tabby cat prowls the landscape of my bed, daintily stepping over me then head butts me into stroking her, purrs at ridiculous decibel levels for this quiet time of day.
Yawning.
Jaw-splitting.
Unfolding unnatural bends in joints, popping and crackling like human cereal.
Teenage son awake at the same unseemly hour, keen as mustard, willing to get out of his cosy nest, eagerness only for the prospect of the rare treat of an online tournament for his current game.
Coffee.
Lots…
Rinse and repeat…
Daughter, yawning and cold, demanding food, snuggling into blankets on sofa, still half asleep but won’t go back to bed.
Ping.
Football WhatsApp.
Snow-covered pitches, back to bed…?! (*praying…)
Unanswered prayers (a la Garth Brooks), freezing football pitch, sun/hail/wind/snow, 16 weeks without football, 22 stiff, clumsy, gangly teenagers, chocolate biccies at half time, travel-cup coffee cold too soon.
Goals…
Plural…
Even a penalty against can’t dent boys’ newly-regained enthusiasm.
Warm drive home, scolding from cat left out in the snow, finally thawed out, showered and squeaky-clean children, food (cat and children), finishing homework, lazy afternoon with films.
Sunday…
Done.
Until next time…
Anna M. Kingston
11 April 2021
Another lovely, light-hearted snapshot of familial excitement, this time in a rhythmic poetic form. Thanks, Anna.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Owen! :)
DeleteGrowing optimism about easing of lockdown and return to family routines. Piece has good rhythm.
ReplyDelete