The Difference is Subtle

Saturday, 5:57am.  

“You’re up early, big guy,” Steve greeted his son with a whisper.  “Let’s change you and go downstairs.  We’re going to be quiet though so your mommy can sleep, okay?”

“Yeah,” Daxon answered with a head nod.

The two were as quiet as could be.  Steps downstairs were plotted to take place on the least creaky of the floor board.  Light switches were flipped slowly to avoid a thundering click if switched too fast.  Once downstairs, morning cartoons ran with sound just barely audible.  Steve smiled as he held his son close, knowing his beloved wife was resting soundly upstairs.

Sunday, 6:15am.

“Daxon,” Beata shouted, “you are up so early, man. Let’s brush your teeth and get breakfast ready. Okay? It’ll be a nice treat for daddy. We’ll let him sleep in a bit.”

“Yeah!” Daxon said, clapping with joy.

Beata and Daxon ran the tap at full volume to prepare their toothbrushes.  Pots were clattered and clanged as breakfast prep began.  Daxon raced back and forth from stove to pantry getting supplies requested at full shout from Beata.

“Heya, babe, you can keep sleeping. Daxon and I got this,” Beata said as Steve lumbered into the kitchen.

“Nah, nah, I think I’m good.  It’s 6:18 in the morning. I couldn’t get back to sleep if I wanted to,” Steve answered, his eyes puffy from a fatigue that would long after Daxon moved out of the house.

 

Thanks for reading!

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