Stolen Time

It’s now.  Right now.  I’m sitting  on our couch (with coffee, of course) blogging.  You never know how long it’s going to last which makes it that much more precious.  Bruno tries to disrupt the stolen time, but I’ve steeled myself and his cute, little, pinned-back ears have no effect on me, “No, it’s not time for you to go on a walk yet, Bruno – besides, it’s Daddy that takes the morning shift  so go give him those Puss in Boots (from Shrek) eyes,”.

When I don’t have the privilege to indulge myself with these stolen minutes it definitely sets the tone for the day.   The day somehow feels more out of my control.  These minutes, whether they’re few (five) or plentiful (25 – yeah, that’s plentiful) are minutes that I treasure and crave.

And… ding ding ding – time’s up.  Good morning.

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