Creative Piece Without the Word "I"

“Ayelet, time to get up!”

“Ok.”

But the bed is too warm, and sleep too tempting. And parents, persistent folk that they are, always come back with another reminder. That’s the good thing about parents; they never realize that if they just turned on the over-head light to begin with, it would be much easier to wake up. Instead, they continually exhaust themselves coming in every five minutes or so. Eventually they’ll turn on the light, but by that time the bed is less comfortable, and sleep farther away anyway.

But getting up is still difficult, albeit necessary. Ok, pants, a shirt or two, brushing hair, bandana.

“Hurry up and brush your teeth, they’re almost here!”

“Ok.”

Brushing teeth is easier than waking up. Yes, yes, quickly, quickly. Socks, homework in binder. Anything else? No? Ok, shoes.

The phone rings. The carpool’s coming. Faster. No, dad it’s not possible to go any faster. Shoes are on. The doorbell rings. Bye.

“Have a good day.”

“Thanks, you too.

Down down down the stairs, which are quite long and particularly difficult to descend after being sick for two weeks. And there’s Lara, waiting. The ride passes quickly. The car pulls up into the parking lot right as the bell rings. And then the day really begins.