Another Morning, California

"Be tea faster," he thinks.

Around him, the sounds of morning. The kids talking about school stuff as they eat their scrambled egg breakfasts. The adults waiting for the internet connection to reboot so they can check their email before the start of the day. The dog outside, sniffing and snorting and barking to be fed.

The sun comes up slowly over the hills, golden light spilling into the valley, through the windows in patches to randomly light the living room, the kitchen. The aquarium burbles quietly.

Mom tells her boy to sit up and eat. Dad walks through the kitchen, getting ready for work, looking for clean socks and his work boots. His boy tries to help - the boy always tries to help, and generally succeeds in helping. Socks found, Dad sits to pull them on and talk to his kids.

The other houseguest reads quietly in the corner while Mom tries to reboot the internet. She's trying to print something for Dad but can't without mailing it to herself from her laptop to the main computer where the printer is hooked up.

"Almost tea?" he thinks, and goes to go check on it.

Tea in hand, he returns to his laptop, laughing at the boy's musings on the torturous nature of parents. Dad leaves for the day, having traded a few barbs with his wife. Mom tries to herd her kids through the remaining elements of preparing for school. Socks and shoes and brushing of teeth.

The internet is back up. The other houseguest leaps to her feet to check her email as he finishes the scrambled eggs the kids didn't finish themselves. The idea of eating other people's food once would have disgusted him, but three weeks with the kids have robbed him of that illusion. Eat what food there is to eat has become his prevailing attitude.

The cat wanders in, leaps onto the couch that has been his bed. As cats go, she isn't nearly as obnoxious as some. The girl goes to pet her kitty and put on her shoes.

Mom and the other houseguest check their email while he sits at his laptop, typing and sipping tea. The girl tells her brother to brush his teeth and a mild tussle breaks out. A warning from Mom lets them know now is not a good time for horseplay. They go to separate bathrooms to brush their teeth, and for a few moments, the only sound in the house is the soft tapping of keyboards and the sipping of tea or coffee.

Mom starts reading out headlines and prompting conversation. Laughter breaks the morning silence. Mom gives her son a sip of her coffee and tells him to feed the dog, then her daughter slips onto her lap to give her a hug.

A sneeze interrupts his typing.

The kids forage in the fridge for a snack for school. Fruit, he notices, plums and strawberries.

The day has very nearly begun. Time to get going.

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