August 14, 2005 - Sunday
Jeremy's door was still shut this morning at 8:00am. His mother was downstairs, already having started cooking the pancakes. Jeremy was very still, although I've learned that doesn't necessarily mean his asleep. I moved into his room for a closer look. He rolled over a little, clearly having just been stirred from sleep. His eyes open ed groggily and he saw me standing there. He turned back over like a teenager looking for five more minutes. Now that he was awake anyway, I figured maybe I ought to get the process started. From here he'd surely able out of bed, fool around a little on the way to the bathroom, stand there waiting goading me to tell him to use the toilet, daky washing his hands, and so forth. I moved a little closer and could see that he was waking and sat down on his bed. I leaned over and whispered, "Jeremy, you can sleep as long as you want..."
He rolled toward me and cut me off asking, "is this a pancake day?" A light bulb had gone on.
"Yes."
He flung the sheet off himself, swung his feet over the edge of the bed, hopped down, and ran to the bathroom. His pull-up was off before I got in there and he was at the toilet.
"Wash your hands. I'm going to go get you some clothes."
When I turned around from his bureau drawer he was standing there waiting for his clothes. Pancake day is not to be triffled with.

I couldn't resist. I put on Hush by Bobby McFerrin and Yo-Yo Ma, voice and cello.


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