Routines

When I was growing up my dad had a routine that he followed every morning. It was like clockwork. I learned his schedule so well I could tell what time it was depending on the signs from his routine.

One morning I needed to get up early and I waited for him to leave. Prior to this morning, I realized he didn't like when I invaded his private time. So, I waited for him to go to work.

Anyway, this particular morning he came back, running inside from the garage, yelling that some kids had busted out the window of his car. Turns out that day was April 1st. My Mom didn't think it was funny at all.

It's been several years since I've lived under my parents roof. Every now and then, early in the morning, I can hear the neighbors walking around upstairs. My brain tells me it's my dad on his routine.