Morning Sunshine

I have been awake for a few minutes, and I alternate between looking over at her and staring at the ceiling (she hates it when I stare at her).  She looks so soft and peaceful.  Sometimes I sneak down and gently hold her hand, depending on whether or not her position allows me to.

She starts to stir and her eyes open a little bit.  They close briefly, and I know she’s making sure that she’s really done with sleeping for the day, and then half open again.  Then it’s either “morning” or “hi”, in a very soft sweet voice, a voice that has forgotten any woes from the day before and is ready to start taking on a new day.

She asks me how I slept, and then I ask her.  Sometimes we discuss our wacky dreams for a minute.  Then she’ll suggest that it’s time for breakfast.  Before I go make us breakfast in bed, I always lean over and kiss her on her cheek.

I come back with the tray and we eat our breakfast.  I put the tray away, and we usually lay on the bed and snuggle while watching a show for awhile.  She has an indescribable glow to her in the morning and her hair always falls just right.  I tell her how beautiful she is in the morning and she’ll either indicate that I’m lying or crazy (or just wrong).  Sometimes she’ll let out a small, very cute yawn, with an innocence that brings to mind an image of what she probably looked like as a little girl yawning.

She is my morning sunshine, and she is probably going to roll her eyes at me while reading this.