Ah, vacation. A time to relax and sleep in. Or not. Having all agreed to sleep as late as we wanted, we looked forward to a late start. At 7:18 however, an apocalyptic alarm went of followed by Stephen Hawking’s twin sister announcing trouble: “An emergency has been reported in the building. Please exit the building immediately. Use stairways. do not take the elevators”.
This understandably upset My Youngest badly and she began to cry. Totally disoriented, I stood up with my CPAP still on, causing my face to be yanked downward toward the nightstand while my body attempted to move toward the door. I swatted at my face irritably in an effort to break free, now hearing Ms. Stephanie Hawking profess our certain doom for the fourth time. It occurred to me that I must look a memeber of the Ood from Dr. Who. Strangely, I found no solace in this idea.
Before we could all don pants and footwear, the incessant keening was shattered by an all consuming silence. There we stood, like a Pompeiian still life, our sleep logged brains swirling. My Youngest resumed whimpering. She was finally reassured by her sister who told her “Someone in the kitchen burned some bacon and the smoke dectector caught a whiff of it, but it is gone now.”
Any port in a storm, am I right?
Having been catapulted from our repose, we were at least able to enjoy a glorious sunrise. It may be 38 degrees, but it sure is pretty!
