The Stars and the Cookie Jar

6 AM. Slow, sleepy green trees outside the window. Cats banging on the door. Fiancee's beautiful toffee-blonde hair across from me on the pillows.

Phone ringing.

OMGWTFBBQPhone.

Huh? What? Oh, is he calling to fire me for the crapitude that was last night? It's 6 AM. Who the fuck is calling our serene, tranquil home at 6 AM? Oh, heh, I should answer that. Mnrrrrf.

[flail, flail, phone, button on phone, voice other end]

Me: Hi, Mom.
Mom: Why aren't you awake? What time do you have to be at work?
Me: It's my day off. I knew you were coming, I took the day off... I'm awake now.
Mom: Well, we didn't get here until 2:00 in the morning, and I was thinking of just meeting you for breakfast but now we'll probably meet you for lunch.
Me: Fiancee and I were going to make dinner reservations.
Mom: Oh. No, we were just going to meet up with you for lunch or breakfast and then leave.
Me: But, but fiancee has to work, and I wanted you to meet her!
Mom: I don't need to meet her.
Me: But she's my fiancee.
Mom: So then I'll meet her at the wedding.
Me: *gabble of fury muted by OMG SIX in the FUCKING MORNING on my DAY OFF*
Mom: So we'll come out there when everybody's awake. Yeah?

...'msorry. That song just reminds me of my mother.

The woman who birthed me and followed that up by calling at 6 AM? Despite detailed directions emailed, repeated telephonically and probably telepathically at this point? Is not here.

We're hard to find, mostly because the area's a little weird -- everything is routed around the Pentagon -- but not that hard. And my fiancee gave such good directions that I could follow them in my head, and I don't think like a driver-of-car and have no sense of direction.

However, whenever she shows up, I am ready.

Trash: taken out.
Teeth: cleaned.
Cat Box: de-mined.
Couch: properly pillowed.
Dead Daisies: dispatched.
Christmas and Birthday Gifts, Belated: assembled.