Where Is Pointer, Brother John?

Storey's developed the unfortunate habit lately of waking up between 4 and 5 o'clock in the morning. Up for good. Ready to start the day. We are not. Usually, I placate her with a boob or two until Jason gets up to get ready for work and blessedly whisks her away to sit in her swing while he showers.

Well, it's Saturday and this morning, Jason slept on. No whisking. I laid there thinking, "No. No way. Not 4:00 on a Saturday. I can't." And apparently I didn't. After trying to put her back to sleep for awhile, babbling back at her in the pre-dawn darkness as she softly bapped my face with her fist over and over, I inadvertently fell back to sleep. Hey. She's not crawling yet and she was safely between us on the bed. There's only a few weeks left before she's mobile and we no longer get to languish at all. Don't judge.

Anyways, she's really into pointing at everything lately and how did I wake up? Her laughing, and two little index fingers fully inserted up my nose. What better way to start the day? I say.