Best Part of Waking Up

I get up early on weekday mornings. Admittedly nowhere near as early as my rise and shine younger brother, Mr. Chariots of Fire, but early for me (though for much of this past week, owing to later in the previous evening's activities, I've been getting up a half hour later) and it's so early that I'm mostly sleep-walking for the first thirty minutes or so after my feet hit the bedroom floor.

That usually works out okay as much of my getting ready to head to the gym, or to work or to just simply greet the day, is a routine that I help out by organizing the evening before. I lay out my morning medications, not meditations as auto-correct keeps trying to suggest, next to the nasal spray which, in turn, is next to the glucose meter which is always to the left of the sphygmomanometer. A place for everything and everything in its place.

Some mornings I get up, slap on gym clothes, carry my work clothes on a hanger and head to the gym, drive to work, shower and get dressed for whatever adventures lie ahead. Some mornings, like yesterday, I shower at home and get dressed for work before heading there. 

About four times a year, for no actual or particular reason, I stop shaving and then, after a couple of days, tell myself  I'm growing a beard (because technically I am). I pretend that this time, I'll look dashing and debonair. Sort of like Brad Pitt meets Antonio Banderas. Instead, I always look more like the bear, Ben, in Grizzly Adams. 

Actually, that's a vast overstatement. I look like a 'pennbruder' (a hobo) says my wife and she's being kind. I resemble that guy on the corner of Main and Water Streets with the dirty rag and the squeegee bottle who wants to clean your windshield for a quarter while you're waiting at the light. And, be warned, I don't have change for a five. 

Anyway, yesterday morning after showering and shaving I was ready to brush my teeth (I can skip shaving for weeks at a time but I have to brush my teeth at least twice a day because, well, because I have to). I keep the toothpaste standing on its head in the short plastic 5-ounce cup that holds the dental rinse I start with followed by the actual tooth brushing (teeth brushing?). For whatever reason, instead of putting the rinse in the cup, I used the Stetson aftershave I keep on a shelf beside the shower. 

Unscrewing the cap, pouring the aftershave into the cup and lifting the cup to my mouth set off no alarm bells at all. My nose, fortunately for me, was way more awake than any other body part it seems and got a big whiff of the Stetson stuff and kept slapping at my front lobe until the rest of my brain went 'whoa!' and I caught a look at myself in the mirror looking sheepish (and unshaven). I then smiled because I had the gums and teeth to do that, safely, at least once more. Good morning, indeed.
-bill kenny