Mornings with Richard and Kaori

Two pairs of slippers are flopping like dead fish in the hallway. Last night's tea leaves are peering up from a hand-held strainer on a floral tray. A massage chair is relaxing unfolded with its remote control dangling from sleepy hips.

My coffee is french-pressed and pale with soy milk. My laptop is full of fresh kanji flashcards and I am looking nerdily forward to breaking into them in these few quiet minutes before the house wakes up.

I can hear the 8 am garbage truck outside, playing its nostalgic ice-cream truck song into the sleepy crowd of houses. How sweet that the garbage truck has its own morningtime song.

SUDDENLY!! FROM ABOVE ME!!!
Their bedroom door slides open in panic and their bodies are tumbling down the stairs, crusty-eyed. Where did you put the garbage Kaori??? It's combustibles day!!! NO that piece of plastic wrap is NOT combustible!!! I can imagine that they both have morning breath as they yell in each others' faces. They are apologizing to the garbage man who has come to our front door to personally claim the trash which he notices is not in its usual place.

This is only funny for me. I am smiling at them but their eyes are still half shut and they can't see. They turn on the hot pot and water is boiling. Toast is spinning in the microwave-toaster and their computers are booting up. Their hair looks great. They're stretching and purring like cats.