The Fuss is excited to greet the dawn, chirping and rushing about the living room, scaling anything within arm's reach.
I am measurably less enthusiastic, it being too early for coffee and too late for anything else. The way it goes is you kill time watching him scramble around until he starts crashing into things headlong and crying. That's the signal to stuff him in the front pack, queue up the DVD player and being the drawn out process of coaxing him back to sleep.
He's right back up again between 7 and 8, but by then coffee makes sense and there's natural light to work by.
It's the little things we learn to appreciate.
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