Ideally, I would have stretched and been slow to open my eyes, savoring that last delicious moment, the one just between sleeping and waking, aware of having had a long, luxurious, late Sunday afternoon nap.
Instead, my eyes popped
open the moment my consciousness registered the muffled phrase that I heard
That utterance woke me, combined
with the vague realization that David had just flipped the deadbolt on the
front door and was about to fling it wide open in hopes of having a chat with
the city council candidate who was walking back toward the sidewalk, campaigning
for the upcoming primary election.
I wonder what she might
have said if I had not been successful in shooing David from the door and
keeping clear of all front facing windows—a move taught to me at a young age by
my mother, wanting the avoid the Jehovah’s Witnesses who frequently used to
proselytize in our neighborhood, distributing copies of The Watchtower door-to-door.
I wonder if that candidate
could have kept her train of thought when she caught sight of me, groggily
heading towards the door, one hand trying to massage the kink in my neck which
was stiff from having slept sitting up in a chair, while at the same time
trying to decide whether to use the other hand to shake hers, which she had
extended, or to remove the Peltor Noise Reduction Junior Earmuffs that I had
borrowed from David.
Would she have stayed to
deliver her campaign spiel? Or backed
slowly away from the door, having received David’s new standard salutation, a
heartfelt “AHOY,” all the while wondering if I had donned the noise reducing
gear because I had hastily returned from the shooting range, or was, in fact,
having target practice in my backyard—a clear violation of city ordinances.
Whatever the scenario she
might have imagined, I am sure that she could not have guessed that I was
desperate to rest for a moment.
Yes, I wanted to sleep,
but more importantly I needed a break from the noise of my sensory-seeking boy,
who was playing some classical music on a continuous loop on his CD player, Brahms’
Sonata No. 1 for Cello and Piano in E minor—enjoyable enough, but when combined
with the omnipresent episode of SpongeBob Squarepants on the portable DVD
player, a YouTube video of an agitating washing machine on the iPad and David
catching air on the trampoline, whipped into a hand flapping frenzy, the
washing machine was not the only thing becoming agitated.