And, unfortunately, I've noticed recently that it is not things I remember FONDLY about him. Well, I remember them while laughing NOW, but these particular things made me want to wet my pants when I was growing up out of fear and trepidation that I would be beat.
Okay, not "beat". But in a decent amount of trouble if I laughed, spoke out of turn or looked the other way. Or took a breath. Or continued to exist.
My father worked as a mechanic for a living. He got up early in the morning and my mom got up and fixed him breakfast EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. (I know, right?!) But in the 25+ years that she did this they never spoke to one another. We are not known as "morning friendly", people. It's just the way it is. It's part of our charm. Trust me. Considering I was manufactured from both sets of these "non-morning" genes, it would factor in that I, myself, am NOT a morning person.
After close to 25 years with Troy, he still does not quite get this. I know y'all are shocked that my stunning, warm, funny personality is not a 24/7/365 event. Get over it.
But over the years my mom has grown out of this shell almost entirely. She is quite perky and talkative in the mornings now. It could be because she wakes up, much to her chagrin, at around 4:30 in the morning and by the time I get up she's been up half the day. Or it could be that my dad isn't around to be Mr. Grumpy Gills (name that movie) that she has to deal with.
Now she has me when I'm there to visit. I love my mom dearly. But I simply get freakin' annoyed with people when they want to be all chatty in the morning and expect ME to be, too. I'm a good listener in the morning. I'm a GREAT listener in the morning. I just suck at the talking part. So don't make me. It is particularly annoying when I get up at my mom's house, grab a cup of coffee and head to the living room where she is watching TV....and SHE TURNS THE TV OFF. This is the first sign she wants to have some rousing conversation about something and all I want to do is zone at the TV.
But this lack of morning social skills is not the only thing I've noticed about myself getting worse and more like my father as I get older.
Because he got up so early to leave for work (he had a 40 minute drive one way) he also went to bed early. And once my dad went to bed it was QUIET TIME!! Ooops....I mean it was QUIET TIME. If Linda (my bff) hops on here to read this, I'm sure she can confirm the "rules" of no phone calls, no visitors, using quiet voices when over at my house past 8:00 p.m. Yes, 8:00 p.m. Once my dad was asleep, you better fear for your life if you woke the sleeping giant. Lord have mercy. It was nothing compared to the morning grumpiness. Oy!! There were a myriad of reasons my father woke up:
TV too loud
Cupboard doors shutting
Refrigerator doors shutting
Laughter from the living room
I'm guessing my dad was a light sleeper....and I'm telling you that I lived in the house when each item on that list caused my dad to throw open his bedroom door, storm down to the end of the hall and yell at us in his tighty-whities. And it was very difficult for us to take my dad serious in his tighty-whities....and if "laughter" was the cause of his awakening then we were really in trouble once he stormed back to his room.
But much to my dismay I have become this person.
I've never been an overly heavy sleeper or an overly light sleeper. I can fall asleep very quickly....but it is hard for me to go back to sleep if I get woke up. And now that sleep comes at a premium for this shift-working, sleep-deprived, peri-menopausal woman? It's ugly if I get woke up...and the previous list is the same list of things that will cause me to throw open my bedroom door, flail (yes, flail...it's not pretty, people) down my stairs and proceed to YELL at whoever is causing the ruckus. Including the dogs. And those dogs can be NOISEY with their toenails "click-click-clicking" on the floors downstairs and their licenses/tags jingling around. UGH!!
I'm hyperventilating just thinking about it.
So I'm sure my children see this as funny once I stomp back up the stairs, slam my door shut and crawl back in bed. After all, they are *my* children. But I usually don't have to yell twice.
I wonder if it makes them want to pee their pants, too?