The Early Bird Really Does Get the Worm
The aroma of burnt coffee tickled my senses just minutes before my alarm clock rang. The loud beeping sound signaled my brain to get up, or rise and shine as my mom would say. I'm a sleepy-head and mornings made me unhappy, and not my favorite time of the day. Birds like mornings, they are the ones that chirp and sing. I am not a bird trying to get any worms, I need my sleep. My head wanted to stay on the soft pillow, but my mom yelled at me for the second, or maybe third time to get up and get ready. How can a girl get the sleep she needs around here without someone yelling at her? My sister does not like to be late. She is the early bird in this family. I finally hear the toaster pop up and sweet smells of waffles fill my head. How can something so little smell so good and make you so happy? I knew if I didn't get up that my sister would eat every last tasty one of them. I wonder if she is pouring syrup over them. The warm syrup that pours over the top and drips off your plate is so wonderful. I guess waffles for me are like worms are for birds, maybe that's why they are so quick to get up.
Up came my head off the soft pillow. I creeped out from my comforter that smells so much like fresh roses from the garden. My toes were still asleep, so I had to wiggle them constantly to remind them it was time to touch the cold hard floor. Both feet finally hit the floor and began moving toward the tiny closet that I called my own. It was so tiny that I could barely fit five outfits in. The rest of my clothes ended up on the floor or my dresser filled with dust.
In the kitchen my mom is humming her favorite tunes. I guess she's like a mama bird trying to get her baby birds awake in the morning. Her humming is a favorite part of my morning when I'm trying to awake. It reminds me of the breakfast that is awaiting in the kitchen. My eyes try to focus on the clock hands but the numbers are blurry. I walk toward my closet
Up came my head off the soft pillow. I creeped out from my comforter that smells so much like fresh roses from the garden. My toes were still asleep, so I had to wiggle them constantly to remind them it was time to touch the cold hard floor. Both feet finally hit the floor and began moving toward the tiny closet that I called my own. It was so tiny that I could barely fit five outfits in. The rest of my clothes ended up on the floor or my dresser filled with dust.
In the kitchen my mom is humming her favorite tunes. I guess she's like a mama bird trying to get her baby birds awake in the morning. Her humming is a favorite part of my morning when I'm trying to awake. It reminds me of the breakfast that is awaiting in the kitchen. My eyes try to focus on the clock hands but the numbers are blurry. I walk toward my closet