Because I am a responsible grown-up lady in America, I spent about two hours yesterday staring at the clock on my wall and wondering why it didn't match up with the clock on my phone.
hmm. brain waves....thinking....
....ouch, this hurts....
A lightbulb did eventually flicker on — old dusty frontporch in a horror movie style — and I realized it was Fall Back Day, and that I should probably just ignore the clock on the wall until Jason got annoyed by it, because he's tall enough to change it without having to climb on a chair, a chair which is like, allllllll the way over there.
(Always thinking, I am. Yes.)
When I was a kid, I have vivid memories of Fall Back Day, because I thought it was the SHIT. Since we were regular church-and-Sunday-school goers and I was a serial hater-of-mornings, I am not exaggerating when I say that I looked forward to Fall Back Day all year long. An extra hour! To spend in bed! And usually on such a nice chilly fall morning when you could really appreciate burrowing back into your nest of blankets and Care Bears instead of getting up and putting on a nice dress and tights — TIGHTS, MY GOD — and driving to church while frantically trying to memorize your weekly Bible verse and praying that there would be cookies before the main service and that you would get to the cookies before all the good ones were eaten.
(The "good ones" were the sugar-coated pretzels. OBVIOUSLY.)
Spring Forward Day, on the other hand... Well, Spring Forward Day could go fuck itself. In a fire. With a pile of the stupid boring un-sugared round cookies.
Anyway, I miss being able to really enjoy Fall Back Day. It's one of the little things that you miss after having babies, because babies do not give a rat's ass what the clock says. They are up and they are ready to party, or at least loudly complain about the state of their diaper. And the same went for my older children, who were up in my face at the side of my bed at 6 am sharp, demanding Cheerios and the current location of the iPad, so that they could play various screechy apps at top volume.
And this morning, even though I knew it wasn't *really* 6 am, it was 7 am and I'd technically gotten just as much sleep as I was used to, it just felt so wrong. I was being cheated. Look at that clock. LOOK AT IT. Plus it's so dark and cold and I woke up at 3 am from a nightmare about The Walking Dead where the zombies were the plants from Plants vs. Zombies, which doesn't make any sense now that I'm thinking of it, because why would the plants be eating people when they're the good guys, or ohhhhh maybe I was actually dreaming about Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors, but either way that was a pathetic-as-fuck nightmare and I can't believe it freaked me out but okay, fine, I've officially woken up enough to think this hard about it so I guess I might as well get up and make everybody some goddamn scrambled eggs.
I hope you're happy, FAMILY. None of you have ever had to go out in 40-degree weather in tights that you put on while half-asleep and thus the toe-seams are all crooked and the crotch is like, three inches lower than it should be. If you did, you'd understand, and you'd go back to bed, and you'd LOVE IT.