Mr. Wilson Made it Home!

Mr. Wilson Made it Home!
Mr. Wilson

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Wood Chips

Sunrise. Big deal. The new blinds I bought at Lowe's do a crummy job of keeping the new day's glorious beginning out of my nice, dark room. Before opening my eyes I move; back is still there, still hurting, the elbow and knees creak as I roll over, stick my head under the pillow and try to doze off, and forget that I'll be at work in an hour, and business is slow, off 25% from last year, and the kids need something, I'm sure,the car has sprung a leak and speaking of leaks, the pump in the basement is groaning.

Just as I decide to stay in bed for good something wet and slimy caresses my forehead. I peep out through bleary eyes and am face to face with a hungry Wilson. But he doesn't care that he's hungry. He's tap dancing on my pillow, and grinning. Grinning? The little bastard is grinning. And before I know it, I'm grinning too. Next thing I know, I'm on my feet, and he leads me to the door, and I let him out and stand there, watching him chase the birds and squirrels away from his birdfeeders.

A gentle breeze blows through the doorway, sunlight dapples the wood chips through the pine branches, and there, in his glory is Mr. Wilson, covered in sap and sticks, smelling like a freshly opened cedar chest and running past me into the house to wake up The Mrs.

It's a glorious beginning to another good day.

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