Snuggling up in the morning with Isabella (she’s 6), I always tell her that THIS is my favorite time of day. Seriously, it’s my favorite time of day. Unless Julianna (she’s 8) gets to me first. Then THAT’s my favorite time of day.

This morning…

… it is Isabella’s turn. I pull the covers back, climb up and cuddle. I start gently singing and caressing her back and legs. I realize she is unzipping her onesie pajamas. She pushes my hand away.

Me: Uh oh. This can’t be good.

She presents her back and legs. I start to caress.

Iz: No, Daddy. This is very good.

Swear to God, she falls back asleep. I’m doing more harm than good.

Let me do breakfast.

Julianna awakens: Can you snuggle?

Me: Sorry. Gotta do Honey Smacks. What do you want?

J: A snuggle.

Crap! Not oatmeal?

But, Seriously, this is my favorite time of the day.

Me: What do you want for breakfast?

J: A snuggle. Zzzz.

Yeah… They’ll be tardy.

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