One More Minute

So maybe Reagan listens to us after all.

Yesterday morning she tiptoed into our room at 7:09 a.m. I sensed her presence more than heard her. She stood about 1.5 inches from my head and breathed and tried to keep herself from giggling. I knew she was there but I didn't want to wake up yet. She couldn't take it and finally whispered, "Mom." When I didn't perk up, she said it again, "Mom."

I opened an eyeball and stared at her but still didn't speak. Once she had my attention, she was just all wiggly and bouncy and she said "Good morning!" 45 times or so.

She calmed down, realizing I wasn't joining her enthusiastic greeting of the dawn. She pointed to my alarm clock and said, "one more minute" as I have I don't know how many mornings. Then she sat on the floor, cross legged to wait.