All is Loud and Dark

It is still dark,  and I am listening to the sounds of my house waking up. The radio is on in the kitchen and in the upstairs bathroom. My son is playing his guitar and singing "A Boy Named Sue". My husband has come up from the cellar and says to three of his grown children, "do you have anything you want in the basement? If so, check in my truck, because I just threw everything out." Then he goes back down and does some more pull-ups.  
I hear a sleepy "are you kidding me?" from a bedroom, and "don't you people know about sleep? It's vacation." The mixer is banging against a bowl, one daughter is making waffles. The phone rings and it as another daughter, calling from a cell phone in the driveway on her way to work (she lives above the garage and teaches second grade) she wants to tell her younger sister, who is home from UAA for the winter break, that she left the seat too close to the steering wheel for her long legs. My son shouts " waffles and chicken." He has just returned from New Zealand, and he says they eat meat pies there. "Like apple, but with steak instead of apples". He is no doubt looking in the fridge at the leftover chicken. He says that instead of blueberry waffles we should have chicken waffles. He is playing another song now, singing about his baby's eyes, and I think about last night's baby shower for his older sister's first child, due January 5. The girls are both singing along, and I even hear my husband warbling in the cellar. On both radios now, a doctor is talking about how to keep your family healthy this holiday. Tell them to sing, I think, tell them to sing and eat chicken waffles.


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