My kidlets set their own alarm for six o'clock, get up, and eat breakfast without "bothering" me more than to come and give me a "morning kiss." I am enough of a cow to say "Don't wake me till seven!" but it makes no difference, Emil is in the habit of greeting me as soon as he is out of bed and he doesn't easily change his habits. But I doze off again for another hour.

They don't need to get up quite so early, but ... habits, like I said. That, and they both like to be ready early and have a free half-hour before we have to leave for the bus. This is their time to "get to do something," as Emil says, and he will usually listen to a CD in the bedroom. Everett will play a game or they might sit and read.

I have the best boys in the world. The only way I could be luckier is if they prepared my breakfast, served it to me in bed, and rubbed my feet while I ate it. But I'm content with things the way they are.

The bus stop is at a busy corner, and the traffic lines up down the street in every direction while Emil hands his crutches to the bus driver and makes his way onto the bus.

So far, only one impatient soul has honked his horn, and I had a quick urge to flip him the finger as I stood there seeing the kids off. I caught myself, remembered the driver must be a putz, and imagined lecturing him instead.

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Karen and I have caught up to the tradesmen at the rink and can work no further until they finish what they're doing and get out of our way. Woo hoo, a free morning! So I will head over to Mom and Dad's after I drop the boys off.

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