A Saturday Morning

Every  morning  is a new day. I  wake up determined  to  see the good in the day. I  pray God gives me his thoughts  for guidance  and not my own.

This morning, I  went outside  into the crisp ,  cold air. I  could see my breath. I see the peeping  of the sun rising between the trees. I smoke my cigarette ,  hoping for the best, and expectations  of zero.

It was still quiet as I prepared  my breakfast .  Two eggs, an English  muffin with a hint  of jelly. A few cherry tomatoes  and coffee. I listened to  the  morning news. I don’t  know why I  watch it. It is  nothing but  bad stuff and the sports.

The middle child woke up. He had slept  downstairs .  I   heard paper rattling, so I  peeked out my door, wondering  if maybe Santa was taking stock of the kids rooms.

The grandson said, “look at this.”  I looked and his doorway was completely  covered with Christmas  wrapping  paper. Right in the middle of  the  paper was, Buddy the Elf. It looked like he had been  trying  to get in the room and got stuck. His head was inside the paper and his bottom was sticking out on our side. We both laughed as he tore at the paper giving him clearance  to enter  his room.

I  have finished  esting, cleaned up my preparation  work and am now ready to watch the rest of the news and wait to see what happens throughout  this day.