Waking to Barney Stinson
About a month ago, David got this fancy-schmancy light that gradually becomes brighter and brighter to simulate a sunrise in our bedroom. I’m not making this shit up. We live in Canada – it is now winter – coming out of hibernation sucks at the best of times. This light takes about half an hour to gently accustom its owners to the morning before having the most soothing of Asian plink-plonking pseudo bells as an alarm. I will freely admit that it is a more civilized way to greet the world. You can snuggle in the blankets and reflect as you snooze (David ALWAYS hits the snooze button at least once), basking in that gentle nudge into wakefulness.
At least that’s the plan until Rissa’s alarm goes off about 5 minutes later, at full volume. She recently made a new CD with all her favourite ITunes songs. This morning it was Barney Stinson singing Nothing Suits Me Like a Suit at full volume.
And though I revel in my daughter’s delicious musical weirdness, I know that I will have that mind-worm of a song in my head all frickin’ day now. Bright side: it could have been more jarring, could have been American Idiot.