Sleeping late on Saturday morning is one of God’s great blessings. I’m not a terribly religious man, but I have accepted this minor miracle into my heart and my life with wild abandon. Nothing beats turning off the alarm late Friday night and knowing you have no morning obligations.
Given those sets of circumstances, this past Saturday was Heaven-sent. No alarm. No TV. No sunshine streaming into the bedroom to wake us. Just sleep. Glorious sleep.
We awoke at the crack of noon. Too late for breakfast, too early for lunch.
We started to mow the lawn (I did, at least) and we were treated to a sun shower. Beautiful, fat raindrops set against a backdrop of blue sky.
We sat in the open hatchback of the car an watched the rain, listening to the hum of late Spring and waiting for the sun to best the encroaching gray or vice versa.
Neither happened.
We wasted a morning, afternoon and night by sleeping late, enjoying the weird weather and just being a family.
It was fabulous and I’m almost upset I didn’t mention it earlier. Almost.
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