In grade school, my aunt Paula (only two years older than me), my sister Becky, and I, competed to see who woke up earliest for Saturday morning cartoons.
“I was up at 6 watching ‘Yogi Bear.’”
“I was up at 5:30 watching ‘Bullwinkle!’” the battle went.
As dad got dressed to go make donuts at the college, Becky and I were up at the crack of dawn, planting ourselves on the orange bean bag in the living room.
Fast forward to our college years. The competition reversed.
“I was out until 2 a.m. and slept until noon.”
“Well … I was out until 3 and slept until 1:30.”
I sorely missed those sleep-ins.
When I had my daughter, Laura, in 1990, I became part of the early morning “Barney” and “Teletubbies” crowd. But flash forward again. Laura grew up and I was again a late morning sleeper.
Now flash forward to the present. Voila! I’m back in the pre-dawn crowd.
I’m temporarily watching my precious grandson, Giovanni, while Laura works, leaving at 6:30 a.m. It was a very cruel reawakening at first. But I’m part of the pre-dawn crowd again, enjoying surprisingly good shows with Gio, like “Special Agent Oso,” my favorite, “Little Einsteins,” and his favorite, “Mickey Mouse.”
Life goes in cycles — in fast forward and reverse.