The day the dance-dance revolution ended.

I had to take Bud to school today.

This is bad on several different levels.
1. My body's natural wake-up time is nine. Not seven-thirty.
2. My life has little structure. There isn't anywhere on a daily basis I have to be to at a certain time. This makes me think time has no relevance.
3. It typically takes me 30 minutes to wake up after my alarm has gone off.

After my alarm went off this morning, and I realized that I DID have somewhere to be on time today, reality hit that I couldn't push the snooze button.
Which made me crack open my little peepers enough to think "uhhhhhhhhhhgh. Mother bitch. It's still dark outsiiiiiddddde." I threw a miniature kicking tantrum in my bed and threw myself out of it.

I tripped into Brayden's room and as I got closer to his bed to wake his precious little sleeping angel head, he jumped and scared me.
Little booger was waiting for me.

We ate our cereal discussing the fruit sudoku on the back of the cereal box and why Harley likes to eat leaves when she just throws them back up.

On the way to school (barely 30 minutes since my awakening) I decided maybe dancing in the car would do me some good, get my blood flowing.
I had let Bud sit in the front seat so he happened to have a good view of this.

After about 20 seconds at a stop light, he says "Ok, you're starting to make me embarrassed now."

Sad thing, is that we weren't even anywhere NEAR his school.

Thanks to the males in my life for letting it be known loud and clear that I'm not allowed to dance anymore. Even a 7-year-old knows this.
Damn.