Christmas Morning

It is almost 8 am. I fired my computer this morning so I could find Bazu's sourdough pancake recipe. I want to make them this morning.

The dogs are all spread out on different beds, happily digesting their Christmas breakfast. All with the exception of Maggie. She didn't want to eat her regular food. She has a tendency to get a grumply tummy when it is empty so she is happily digesting a few big dog biscuits. Hey, it's Christmas morning and I can spoil her if I want to. Bridget can deal with the aftermath of a non-eating, spoiled dog when she returns home.

So, I am sitting here, waiting for the recipe page to load, when I hear the scanner go off. My son, who only minutes ago, was a typical 19 yr old, sacked out in his mess of a room, surrounded by his snowboarding paraphernalia, comes bounding out of his room, awake and ambulatory in a matter of seconds. This is the kid who usually takes a half hour or so to get fully awake.

I tell him to be careful as he bolts out the door, boots untied, coat only half on him.

Less than five minutes later, I hear the fire truck sirens in the distance. I know the trucks are staffed with people, just like him, who rushed out of their houses at 8 am on Christmas morning because their scanners went off.

I hope everyone is all right. I will wait until he returns to make his pancakes.