There’s a little morning ritual that my daughter likes to go through. It’s called “Not Getting Up if My Life Depended On it”. This morning, I wake her up several times, each time my assertions getting firmer and louder. Finally, she throws off the covers, pops out of the bed and brushes past me heading for the bathroom. I smile a little victory smile and go back to my room to get dressed for the day.

Several minutes into my morning prep, I realize something doesn’t feel right. Things are too…still. Too quiet.

I knock on the bathroom door. No answer. I knock again, still with no answer. There is not a sound coming from behind that bathroom door. Could it be…? I open the door and right there, on the floor, is the Mad Sister curled up on the bathroom rug! And because she’s a teenager, she is actually PUT OUT when I wake her up.

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