I woke up to the buzzing of my alarm while it was still dark. Any other day I would condemn that atrocious ringing, cursing everything in the world that has led me to get out bed at 3:30 in the morning. Today though, is different. Today I woke more alarmed than my clock, eager to shut the singing buzz off and start my day. My wife groaned as she heard my bustle out of the bed, and around our room. I slowly walked to Sam's room down the hall to act as her own personal alarm clock, hoping I would be met with a good mood-Sam had never been keen on mornings, but I hoped this was a special occasion, as it was for myself.
"Sam, baby, it's time to-"I couldn't even get the words out of my mouth before she quite literally jumped out of bed and went straight to the bathroom where I had laid out her clothes for our excursion. As she turned on the shower I couldn't help but to feel a wave of optimism inside myself. She's actually excited for this. .
"Don't forget to use the scent-release soap in there," I reminded her through the door. "we can't leave any human scent on ourselves. They'll smell it.".
"Yeah, you've told me like a million times. I didn't wash my hair either like you said," she whispered back. She's listening to me. Adolescent children are so hard to understand, especially when they're your own. Women in general could make the coolest-headed man blow a fuse or two-how did I get stuck with three? Three women to one me, and they expect me to get out with my sanity. Ha! .
I walked back to my room to begin suiting up for the day ahead, hoping Sam understood the urgency of time we were dealing with. Three women. Victoria, asleep at the foot of our bed and cuddled up with the cat, was the youngest of my women. Seven years old and still incapable of sleeping alone, there has to be something wrong with that child. Little Victoria was the kind of child that made parents choose divorce; the kind of child to motivate you to stop procreating, which is exactly what we did.