morning person

Who would’ve known that I’d be a *real* morning person? The heat has been oppressive again this week, and so I’ve been up at 600 am (early for me) to step out and run.

When I get back, everyone is still sleeping, so I get the bathroom all to myself and a quiet shower without the baby flushing the toilet or repeatedly yanking the curtain back. And I get about a half hour to mess around, reading blogs and emailing, etc.

And it’s quiet. And cool. Oh heavenly.

We’re gearing up for a couple things: first, the Dahlke family reunion coming up, whereby every single Dahlke, for the first time in over 10 years, will be in the same backyard to engage in bottle rocket fights and pyrotechnic splendor. People in my family take fireworks apart, combine and configure them, and MAKE NEW ONES. I am not making this up. Last year, a cousin of mine created “The Flamin’ Turd” which was a (I believe) cardboard papertowel roll filled with black cats, those snake things, and probably several other various-sized smoke-belching, noisemaking (screaming mee mees*? pregnant cats*?) explosives.

The exitement is that you don’t know what to expect. Will something catch on fire? Will someone’s eye get impaled on an punk stick (last year, this was almost Jack)? Will the cops come and haul us all away (as fireworks are illegal in the state from which I hail)?

The excitement. I can’t stand it.

Other summer happenings: Char travels down to stay with my mom for about 6 weeks. This will result in a 75% reduction in arguments, tantrums, and general house noise. I am not saying this to be mean, nor am I exaggerating. I promise. She is by far the loudest child in the house (except for when the J-Baby howls), and is the NOT THE CAUSE, but is party to nearly all the fights that occur.

And then: the Frank Family Reunion later in July, whereby many people will gather and attempt to out-do one another in any number of talents: singing/music, talking the loudest, and drinking. Mom already has had be burn and send out cds so that we can all sing barbershop.

I promise to offer commentary for each reunion, as the shenanigans will be highly, uh, comment-able.

*Actual names of fireworks.

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