Do you remember the Dunkin' Donuts commercials in the 1980's that had Fred the Baker portrayed by actor Michael Vale. In the opening shot he was enthusiastic and had a cheery "Time to make the donuts!" but then with the passage of time he became increasingly weary. By the last shot, he was practically dragging himself out the door without changing out of his pajamas as he absentmindedly grabbed a coat saying. "time to make the donuts" in an almost inaudible tone that reflected an unenthusiastic attitude and weariness. This phrase has permeated my life with gusto.
When my parents arrived here in 2009, I told them I would make their breakfast for them until they became acclimated to being here and accustomed to the layout of the kitchen. They arrived on a Saturday, so I knew I would be rising early on Sunday morning. I just didn't know HOW early! As an earlier blog post mentioned, we chose this house because of the arrangements of the bedrooms. Master on the main, in particular was important because I wanted them to have a large room with their own bath. My bedroom is directly beneath theirs in the daylight basement. As long as I can remember my parents rise at a very early time. Dark-thirty to be exact. In real time on that first Sunday? It was around 5:15am!! Because they are above me I knew when they were awake. Actually, as it turned out, just my dad. I literally bolted up and RAN upstairs! Yep, ran! The last time I moved that fast out of a dead sleep there was a squalling baby involved. My youngest is 25. I think I pulled something as I sprinted up the stairs to the kitchen. I cooked his breakfast for several weeks and then he took over. He cooked his own breakfast for about 4 months. One day my Mom approached me to say that she noticed that he was practically on his knees in front of the stove trying to cook breakfast. I think he was relieved that I was taking over.
So the next day I got up at the usual ungodly hour to fix his breakfast. I was happy to do it, but man, was it hard to be up that early! (That's another thing. I have NEVER used an alarm clock. This is unbelievable seeing how I used to sleep until after 9am before they arrived!) Steve & I would get up, stumble up the stairs and start breakfast without saying a word. Getting up up like that gets old REALLY fast. Each day became blurred into the next one to the point that I actually had to look at the kitchen calendar to see what day it was on some mornings. It became so monotonous. I don't when, but one morning I woke up and as I reached for my glasses I heard my husband say unenthusiastically somewhere in the darkness, "time to make the donuts!" It didn't help, but it did bring a wry smile to my face. We have continued to make breakfast together, but it's so routine we don't feel the fatigue and the early hour quite as much as before. Every once in awhile after a particularly short night I will rise feeling extremely tired and in the darkness I hear in a sing-song lilt, "time to make the donuts!" And everything is okay.
Do you remember the Dunkin' Donuts commercials in the 1980's that had Fred the Baker portrayed by actor Michael Vale. In the opening shot he was enthusiastic and had a cheery "Time to make the donuts!" but then with the passage of time he became increasingly weary. By the last shot, he was practically dragging himself out the door without changing out of his pajamas as he absentmindedly grabbed a coat saying. "time to make the donuts" in an almost inaudible tone that reflected an unenthusiastic attitude and weariness. This phrase has permeated my life with gusto. 
When my parents arrived here in 2009, I told them I would make their breakfast for them until they became acclimated to being here and accustomed to the layout of the kitchen. They arrived on a Saturday, so I knew I would be rising early on Sunday morning. I just didn't know HOW early! As an earlier blog post mentioned, we chose this house because of the arrangements of the bedrooms. Master on the main, in particular was important because I wanted them to have a large room with their own bath. My bedroom is directly beneath theirs in the daylight basement. As long as I can remember my parents rise at a very early time. Dark-thirty to be exact. In real time on that first Sunday? It was around 5:15am!! Because they are above me I knew when they were awake. Actually, as it turned out, just my dad. I literally bolted up and RAN upstairs! Yep, ran! The last time I moved that fast out of a dead sleep there was a squalling baby involved. My youngest is 25. I think I pulled something as I sprinted up the stairs to the kitchen. I cooked his breakfast for several weeks and then he took over. He cooked his own breakfast for about 4 months. One day my Mom approached me to say that she noticed that he was practically on his knees in front of the stove trying to cook breakfast. I think he was relieved that I was taking over.
So the next day I got up at the usual ungodly hour to fix his breakfast. I was happy to do it, but man, was it hard to be up that early! (That's another thing. I have NEVER used an alarm clock. This is unbelievable seeing how I used to sleep until after 9am before they arrived!) Steve & I would get up, stumble up the stairs and start breakfast without saying a word. Getting up up like that gets old REALLY fast. Each day became blurred into the next one to the point that I actually had to look at the kitchen calendar to see what day it was on some mornings. It became so monotonous. I don't when, but one morning I woke up and as I reached for my glasses I heard my husband say unenthusiastically somewhere in the darkness, "time to make the donuts!" It didn't help, but it did bring a wry smile to my face. We have continued to make breakfast together, but it's so routine we don't feel the fatigue and the early hour quite as much as before. Every once in awhile after a particularly short night I will rise feeling extremely tired and in the darkness I hear in a sing-song lilt, "time to make the donuts!" And everything is okay.
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