Do you think if I changed all the clocks in the house to a more reasonable time, it would trick my brain into feeling okay with such early rising?
It really does go against every lazy arsed principle I possess, but the Littlest Chum thinks it’s the best time of day for funz and gigglez.
Luckily I went to bed at about half eight last night so it’s not too soul destroying. The only problem is I’m having to sneak around a bit as it really is far too early for the older Chums.
In other news, there is now a kitchen sized hole in my house, which is quite exciting. What’s less thrilling is the kitchen sized pile o’shite in the dining room. It’ll all be worth it when it’s done (I’m chanting that as a mantra while I climb over boxes and shake off dust).