The morning is always a unclear time, before the coffee kicks in and the brain starts to function I am always confused. What will the day bring, what will we do, how often will I call my husband at work? I wake and am greeted by three black cats, one whom presently has his paw in my mouth, a moaning, drooling husband and a child who has shed his diaper and is going commando around the house. Did I really think it was going to be like Doris Day? I think I did. Where are the singing birds? Why isn’t my hair and make-up perfectly done? Plastic scrambled eggs and a house that shows no evidence of a family ever having been there. No, not for me. Runny scrambled eggs, burnt toast, hungry cats, confused husband and my son’s naked butt.