The soft bray of the foghorn woke me. I sat up and pulled the shades down hoping that it would allow everyone to sleep a little bit longer. I had no idea what time it was, my cellphone was charging in the outlet across the room, but it felt early.
I got my bearings, QT at the foot of the double bed he and I were sleeping in, his head facing the end of the bed, his feet at my hip; the Little Lady almost completely covered in her green blanket on the single Aero bed on the floor; the Lady, her back to me, on the single bed against the wall. I pulled the top sheet over me, rolled over, tried to ignore the chatter of the early birds, the bark of dogs and fell back to sleep.
When I woke later, after sending all three kids downstairs and trying to ignore what sounded like them dumping every single thing out of every single bucket, container and bin in the sun room onto the floor, I slid on my new bathing suit and beach dress (thank you Old Navy) and headed downstairs.
It was Sunday. It was gorgeous. It was good.