It’s pitch black. Darkness and the warm sounds of my space heater surround me. My bed couldn’t get anymore comfortable, but somehow it does. My blanket traps in comforting heat. My pillow sinks in just right. Tranquillity has wrapped its arms around me. Serenity has kissed my forehead. This sleep is too good!
All of a sudden I hear a noise. A familiar noise. The sounds of someone stirring. Water. Doors opening. Doors closing.
The footsteps are distant. Then, there’s a pause. Peace abounds again. Wait. The footsteps are coming closer. Closer. Down the stairs. “Don’t turn on the light! ,” I plead within myself. Too late. The light over my bed is switched on. “Good morning, Jarrod,” I hear in a sing song voice. “Are you going to be my honey in the honeycomb or crab in a crab shell?”
My mother has entered my room.
“I’m gonna be your crab in a crab shell,” I replied. The words came forth dripping with annoyance. I quickly began to long for the peace that had escaped my grasp. My morning was unceremoniously disturbed and I was not too pleased about it. Tranquility and serenity waved goodbye as soon as I heard the footsteps come my way.
Good morning to me, right?
Teenage Jarrod did not appreciate being woken up by anyone. Especially by someone so chipper. Fast forward 15 years and I can appreciate that my mother was teaching me a valuable lesson.
You decide if you are going to have a great day.
You can get up crabby and mad at the world. You can be ungrateful for another day. You can dread life and the potential problems you’ll face. Or, you seize the day with vigor. You can grasp the opportunity of a day given. You can enjoy life from the moment you wake up.
You can be thankful.
Well, no teenager wants to hear that. However, it is the truth. I understand that now. It’s time to start my day.
Today, I’m going to be sweet like honey.