When the Morning Was New

When the morning was new, before exasperated pre-teen eye rolls, angry stomps up the stairs, screams of “Get out of my room!”, emerging from the closet to find the baby covered in marker, raising my voice after the millionth time asking like some frazzled Mary Poppins wanna be...When the morning was new it was just me, a fluffy white comforter fresh from the wash, and my tea. 

This is the time of day when everything is possible. It doesn’t often go how I’ve planned, but for these few moments there is still the hope that it could. Sometimes that hope is what gets me through to the next new morning full of the hope of what could be. 

I’ll take it.