Last night I carefully set my clock ahead an hour and fixed the alarm, then told Husband I was doing so. He gave a huge sigh, and went out to tell Chris that Daylight Saving Time is upon us.
The alarm went off at 6:25am. I stayed under the blankets for about 15 minutes, then got up and headed for the kitchen. I got the tea on to brew, and brought in both newspapers. Arranged them on the nook table, poured my Cheerios into a bowl, sliced a banana on top, sugared my cup of tea, and settled in for breakfast.
While reading the PARADE magazine, I came upon a blurb about Daylight Saving Time. Which ones of the United States do not participate in following Daylight Saving Time. That _next week_ is the beginning of Daylight Saving Time.
Retracing my steps down the hall, I stayed in the doorway to keep a safe distance. With a soft voice I asked if Husband is awake. Yeah, yeah, I’ll be up in a minute. Well, that’s okay, I saw in the paper that Daylight Saving Time begins next week. We are a whole hour ahead.
His response must have been fairly minor, because I cannot remember what he said.
Later, there was a note on the message bar for Chris
Uncharacteristic inaccuracy for the Mrs.
Daylight Savings Time is _next_ week…of course she realized this _after_ the alarm went off at 6:25 (swear word) am