My kid doesn’t often beat me to the alarm clock. The days he does are often a mixture of me cussing him out in my native tongue (while half-asleep mind you) or me having a really shrieky-freaky wake-up call.
Try this scenario on for size: you, nice and cozy under a comforter; it’s cold, dark and smoggy outside and suddenly a small, cold object starts tapping at your face and head. You can’t figure out what it could be and then suddenly it turns out to be a hand!
You open your sleep-weary myopic eyes and there’s a cute but solemn face staring at you unblinkingly. Then it sniffs and says in a slightly phlegmy tone, “I woked up.”
You can’t help but give out a garbled, scared moan…it’s your kid. An hour before his usual wake-up time and with bad grammar no less!!
No wonder I’ve been thinking of little brat from The Grudge!