After the lights are out but before the dawn, when the sky is darkest,

The sounds of the night should encourage sleep and tranquility in the house made for many.

Though not in my bedroom – I share reluctantly with the youngest one-eighth,

A penetrating assault on the stillness; insane squeaks and squeals of the torture wheel where the hamster runs her endless marathon.

The sweaty hamster, exhausted from her nightly spinning finally comes to a halt when she hears the angry alarm clock throw its early morning tantrum.

Hammy’s dedication to fitness leaves me red-eyed and sleep-deprived; hallucination explains the crooked little furry grin.

The noise continues, though of a different temper; much more vicious and directed, but it doesn’t surprise me; I got in the bathroom first.

“Survival of the fittest” is the unspoken rule in our house; “Cinnamon Toast Crunch” for the fastest, strongest, and bravest of the eight, leaving the runts to divide the “Wheaties.”

Hidden cakes and chips fill the brown paper lunch bags of the most cunning;

My ruthless trickery is accepted and envied by the rest.

Sticky butter knives and bread crumbs, soiled napkins and glasses filmed with milk are all there to greet us when we return once again from the drudgery of learning; though responsibility for clean-up shifts to the one poor soul wearing the “dish night” rose.

When the phone rings at 4:00 or 5:00, if it is answered, it is with caution and skepticism;

The fool that accepts the wrong one is unwittingly recruited to prepare the dinner meal, without complaint, or suffer the wrath of Mom.

We all know the basics – bake, braise, and boil; sometimes I volunteer to avoid the unwanted surprise; crock-pots are king!

My favorite time comes after the feast; while the dishes and glassware exfoliate, and the dog burps up the air she gulped with the secretly discarded peas and gristle.

Its time for homework – my solitude; the only thing that’s all mine.

There’s none to defeat for it, or share it with, or hide it from. It exists for me alone. 

I relish the act; like performing a solo on stage before a sea of envious simpletons….. Pretty sad – but it’s my recipe for good grades.

The TV goes off, the alarm clock gets set. The pillow is fluffed and ready for my sleepy head.

I close my eyes and pull the covers up to my chin – exhaling, so the exhaustion can escape….. Sleep covers me quickly, like a soft warm blanket.

And then Hammy smiles as she approaches the wheel; I just know she does!