My kids wake up, get dressed, make their beds and head downstairs for breakfast before I have pulled my sorry rump out of bed.
They prepared schedules the night before.
From 715 until 230, they are booked.
I need to go grocery shopping. I am told, as they head downstairs, that if I plan to make their lunches, I need to be back by 1130.
It’s some weird Freaky Tuesday.
I get out of bed.