Sunrise and Cereal

Dawn tiptoed in, whispering ideas into my ear like a mischievous muse.

I stirred, feeling the familiar itch of inspiration tickling the edges of my consciousness.

Still, it seemed I wouldn't be alone.

The bedroom door creaked open, revealing my first-born, her hair a tornado

Radiating chaos and early morning energy like a pint-sized ringmaster

Announcing with the ceremonial importance, "Breakfast, Daddy!"

Cereal and toast needed its ruler.

To buy some time, I planted her in front of the television.

I thought I could resist its gravitational pull, but I found myself drawn

Or shall I say sedated by a Patrol of Pups, and at least for

Now, it seems I have more important dealings to attend to.