No, it’s not Folgers in your cup. How about a two inch cockroach on your hand instead? That’ll wake you up faster than any cup of joe.
Rewind back to this morning. It’s before 7am and for those that have witnessed me at wake-up time, I’m about as cheerful and delightful as a momma bear on rampage. After shutting off the obnoxious alarm I reach down to my backpack to move it out of the way before getting out of bed. Something touches my hand and I sleepily lift it up to eye level to try and open my eyes big enough to see what it is. The cockroach hitchhiking a ride is as big as my finger and raises its antennae at me in a happy hello.
Needless to say, I scream. I flail. The cockroach gets a free ticket for a flight across the room. I run out to the kitchen and retell everything in high pitch to Elsa who can’t understand my English. She looks at me for a moment with concern, head cocked to the side, and gives me a hug, patting my back and saying “I love you.” Not exactly a fitting response but it made my morning better.
Love has no language.
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