Planning Ahead

The birds were up--all of them! The first noise of the morning: chick-a-dee-dee-dee. . .chick-a-dee-dee-dee. Unmistakable and incredibly annoying when the alarm hadn't even beeped or blared or blasted--whatever it did--hadn't happened, so she was not obligated to get up.

Right?

But, somebody had opened the window so those annoying chirps could flood the room and that same somebody was now whistling in the bathroom, probably while simultaneously brushing his teeth and shaving--the master of the multitask himself--and probably also listening to the audible New York Times spewing our last night's tragedies and predicting the horrors to come, all this before the real world and normal people had rolled out of bed.

The whistling stopped. No, not the bird whistle--the birds persisted in their chirp, chirp, chirp, but the trill from the bathroom had ended, rather abruptly she realized which made her proud that she could actually think clearly at an hour when reasonable people were still asleep.

But. . . .

But, it gave her time to plan something. A counter attack? A disappearance or a surprise--the good kind, like having the coffee hot and ready, or the less good kind, something that involved stealth and the always effective one-syllable BOO! when it was least wanted.

Or, some combination. It was a lot to think about at 6 am in the morning--too much.

But . . . 

But, if she hurried, put a dab of Chanel No. 5 behind her ears, shed the granny nightgown for something more appropriate for the opportunity, and leapt on him when he finally emerged, freshly shaven, hair combed, relaxed, thinking he was finally going to get to work early . . . . then . . . well then, the morning could turn out to be very, very interesting.