This morning Adam got up at 5:15 and came to find me. I usually sleep with my cell phone right by my head (my clock and my alarm), but because it was Sunday morning I was just planning to sleep until awakened by one of two small human alarm clocks that rarely go past 6:00 AM.
"What time is it, Baby?" I asked him, not expecting an accurate response but asking it anyway.
"It's - it's THIRTY o'clock, Mommy."
"Oh! Okay. Are you sure?"
"It's - it's time, Mommy, for - for PANCAKES!"
We walked to the kitchen together whereupon I saw the real time, and we reconsidered. He watched a pirates movie and I read The Scarlet Letter. That junior English teacher is so demanding. I mean, when are we SUPPOSED to have time to read except at thirty o'clock?
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