Coffee and Eggs

His eyes open to a still dark room and slowly pull focus onto the face of a small, blonde boy. His son is smiling as he tries to whisper a good morning and a plea to have some breakfast. He takes a deep breath and fights the urge to flip the covers back harshly. Instead he gingerly slips out from between the sheets and tip toes out of the room, sweat pants and socks in hand.

He is greeted in the kitchen by harsh lights and the burbling of the already on TV. His daughter greets him with a huge smile as he enters the room. He makes his way to the sink, dodging little hands trying to wrap themselves around his legs. He grabs the coffee pot, puts it in the sink to fill and reaches for his contact case simultaneously. As his contacts settle into place, he surveys the room and the scattered snack wrappers and overturned juice cups become clear.

Turning away from the disaster area, he spoons coffee beans into the grinder and turns it on wincing slightly as the loud whir cuts through the canned laughter emanating from the TV. He turns on the coffee pot and pulls down a small frying pan, sets it on the stove to heat and ambles over to the fridge to grab some eggs.

He sets breakfast in front of the kids and steals away to jump in the shower. As the almost too hot water pours over his head and into his eyes, he sighs and thinks about the day ahead. Out of the shower and back in the bedroom, he glances over at the bed, at the woman asleep there and smiles briefly before he rushes toward the door to head off the little feet pounding down the hall.

He herds the children back to the kitchen as he fills his travel mug with coffee and throws lunch into his bag. He makes his rounds giving kisses and hugs goodbye. Have a good day kiddos he calls over his shoulder and go wake your mama up as he heads to the garage.

He starts his car thinking only of coming back home.