Angels We Have Heard on High
Ah, the joys of spring break! I love a cool, crisp morning that advances into a sunny afternoon. I adore the permission to sleep in a little, no coffee on the front porch as I wave to the grandchildren scurrying off to school early in the morning. You know that feeling, right? Everything feels slightly discombobulated, pregnant with the possibility that nothing has to be done, yet the promise of adventure hangs in the air. Regular moments feel more meaningful, somehow. Not that a week like this doesn’t have its challenges. Every trip outside means my ears refuse to drain. My nose, on the other hand, is working overtime. We all have pollen induced scratchy coughs and sinus headaches that make nap-taking an Olympic worthy sport. With the great comes the ehh, so it seems. While the grands are bemoaning any structure to the day at all, their mother decided some chores were in order. So, every morning this week, I hear the bark of a nosy dachshund as one of the munchkins enters my bedroom door. Little footsteps make a beeline to me. A little voice says, “Hey, Didi, mom said to ask you for a chore.”