On a recent Friday morning at the breakfast table I was extolling the virtues of blueberry muffins in a loud, somewhat off-key singing voice. I'm weird like that. Afterall it was Muffin Day! We all look forward to a nice "Happy Muffin Day!
Oh Oh
Happy
Happy
Muffin Day!"
The (rolling) eyes of my family were all on me and there were many smirks of the 'isn't-she-cute!?', 'isn't-she-weird!?!', and 'what-the-hell!?!?' variety. They are used to (or as used to as they can be) my breaking out in off-key singing and strange dancing over baked goods, a song on the radio, a jingle on a tv commercial, the cat, a sunny morning, a rainy morning or anything at all. They are even used to my occasional rant at the oft-wrong weather man.
But as I finished my ode to my muffin I felt a twinge of sorrow (not regret really, but more like pity) for my sister. After all, she had to live with me for many years as we were growing up. And she had to deal with my many weirdnesses. And I have to say that she didn't deal with them well in the mornings. There was no time that I annoyed her more, than first thing in the morning. I recall many mornings where I was exuberant to the point of obnoxious and it didn't end well. I don't know if she just wasn't a morning person and couldn't handle my exuberant obnoxiousness so early in the morning, or if it was just that I was so over-the-top obnoxious that there was no way a sane person could handle it. I'm guessing it was the latter and that I was extra obnoxious because it was having an effect. Aren't teenagers wonderful?
But I like to think that I've tempered down somewhat and that I'm not quite as obnoxious as I was when I was a teen, but it could just be that my family is extra tolerant. But on this particular morning, as I took a big bite of my muffin I felt happy. It's good to be
Quack!
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