GOOD Morning

When I was younger and living at home my dad was always happy in the morning. He was the only one! When I wake up I feel like I am going to die, cheerfulness is not on the radar. Most of the time we put up with Dad’s cheerful mood. Mornings would go like this.
Dad “Morning Neen”
Me “Grunt, Sneer”
Dad “How you doin Neen?”
Me “glare, sip tea, take a bite of toast”
Dad “Tell me something Neen”
Me “WHAT DAD?”
Dad “just something about anything”
Me “I loathe you”
He learned not to speak to me until after 10am. While he was the only one we could all grunt and sneer and ignore him. Then one day Dad brought Uncle Bob to stay with us. Uncle Bob was not related to us. He worked with Dad and they happened to be born on the same day.
Something about that irreparably damaged both of them. The next morning I came up for breakfast ready to grunt and glare my way through another morning. I entered the kitchen and was greeted by singing
Bob “Here she comes MISS AMERICA”
Followed by a rousing rendition of “You are my sunshine”
For the few weeks uncle Bob was in town they could grin at each other and sip their coffee as the rest of us squinted and moaned.