Morning Laugh
It's the best way to start a weekend. A 7 a.m. laugh. At some God-forsaken hour earlier I heard my husband's alarm go off. Still half-asleep, I wondered "is it not Saturday?..." and realized that an early morning alarm for Lloyd on his day off is not uncommon. An English match for his sometimes winning, oftentimes losing hometown team that he insists on watching win (or lose) live. But I slept in, curled up next to our little girl who likes tosleepthisclosetoyouatalltimes. And when hunger finally beckoned me to get up, the way it does every morning, I retreated downstairs and knew my husband would be in the garage watching soccer and/or playing music- enjoying the quiet of the weekend morning to himself. It was at that 7 a.m. moment I opened the garage door to find Lloyd laid out on the concrete, acoustic guitar clutched in hand still echoing a chord though he was not strumming. He was somewhere between the fetal position and ab crunch and I was at a lo
