I'm not a morning person. Never have been. I'll never forget one time being in middle school-ish and my Dad picking me out of bed, setting me in the bath tub and turning the cold shower on (although he would probably deny ever doing such a thing).
Its been a busy summer, and I haven't had much sleep. My wife has been trying to help me keep m job by not letting me sleep til noon this past week, but in doing so she has been given the horrific task of waking me up. This morning, she began round one with an angelic 'good morning.' It really couldn't have been said any nicer, and I think at that point I might have growled. As I laid there awaking, all I could think about was Amber calling and saying 'good morning my little rosebud, its time to blossom.'
I know I've mentioned this before, but the things that matter most in life aren't how nice your house is, or even if you have a house. Its not the fact that you drive a Volo or Geo Metro. Its not how much stock you have or looking through your car for enough to grab some fast food. Life is made of little precious moments, that we take for granted each and every day. The housing market has crashed, my trusty red jeep has given out on me yet (but is close) and all that eating out made me fat, but I would give every penny in world to wake up to a phone call from Amber.
Happy Birthday Gosh!
