The dark. The gray. The wet.

It has been awhile since I have done anything before 7 AM.  This is practice for tomorrow when the doorbell will ring at 7:30 AM and our house will be presented for cleaning.  Of course this means doing a major pick-up tonight.  This morning it all feels, well, jungly.  Is that a word?  We do not live in a rain forest, but still it is warm and wet and gray (now), and green.  Like a jungle, almost.  Thankfully I did not awaken with an 8 foot long crocodile under my bed, like that man in Zimbabwe.  http://gawker.com/man-discovers-he-slept-through-the-night-with-a-monster-1340648603

This morning brings the dark

The gray

The wet.

I would sleep in

But the dark

The gray

The wet

Invited my daughter

To stay asleep

Past her ride to school.

I become her ride.

Of course I drive

A different route.

Strange,

There are at least

Three different ways

To school,

As many as there are drivers

Who live in this house.

Turn here

She says

Go there

She says

There are fewer lights

This way

She says.

I beg to differ

Oh I beg to differ.

Stop yelling at me

She says

In the dark,

The gray.

The wet,

We make it to school

I drive home

Decide the dark

The gray

The wet

Demands a mention.