Morning in my Sister's House

Morning? says my sister softly; she's not sure if we're awake yet, and doesn't want to disturb us. At the same time, she would rather like us to be awake, since everyone likes companionship, particularly at breakfast time when you have a long day ahead of you. In less than an hour she will be in a quite different steel-framed world with photocopiers and filing cabinets, and no one there will really understand the significance of the fact the porridge packet got hidden behind the cocoa box because *someone* didn't put things away properly last night, as per usual. Neither will they understand the mad-cap scurry, reenacted daily, for “the last piece of bread without crust on.” But in the mornings, for a time at least, we can argue and make concessions about such things.

Morning, morning, says my father in reply. For it is his job to be strident and certain. It is morning; it is indeed morning, and indeed it is a good morning. Morning, morning; the repetition is like a childish song, delighted in itself. Morning, morning, like the robin on the tin roof of the conservatory next door. You can't help but smile at it, even if there really is no reason to say Morning, morning quite like that, and always the same way, too.

Did you sleep well?

Aye, like a log. And you? Did you sleep well, too?

Hmm ...

And so I get out of bed, and climb the ham-fisted steps the builder must have made in his sleep, of which - judging by the skewed bath tiles, the inventive application of a hacksaw to the hob, and certain curtain rails secured with toilet paper - he evidently had too much; I climb the ham-fisted steps right to the top of them, not forgetting to stub my toe on the slightly raised one which persists, even when you least expect it, in remaining slightly raised; and having cursed again the infamous builder with whose seemingly inexhaustible ineptitude this house continues to haunt us (and cursed him, I note parenthetically, no less than he deserves), I smile and say: Good morning.

These are my family; they are getting up. They do this every day, and I love them very much for it.

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