Sundays at home can be like lazy hotel staycations. Almost.
Our staff takes Sunday off.
This means that that one is not at the mercy of a constantly ringing bell.
One can sleep in as long as one wants, just as one can when you put the DND sign outside your hotel room the previous night.
You are not a slave to the tyranny of a ‘breakfast included’ hotel package, the sort which sees you darting to the elevator frantically pulling your jeans up and tee shirt down, 5 min before breakfast ends.
At home, I can wake up whenever I choose to. Call Candies for my Sunday ‘softest chicken sandwiches in the world’ breakfast. They often deliver it faster than housekeeping in a hotel delivers fresh towels one calls for in the morning.
K is happy, as she can sleep on without my urgently tapping on her shoulder , ‘wake up, breakfast gets over in ten min.’
At times she says, ‘let me sleep, get me a cappuccino when you come up.’
Often she gamely gets up against her will. She knows I like to have her by me while I have a multiple course breakfast and she looks on, having finished her fried egg and sourdough toast long before.
At home, little Nimki wakes me up a few times for multiple breakfasts, even if it’s a Sunday! Baby Loaf wakes K up occasionally to take her seemingly aimless walks around the house, but that’s about all.
I later settle down for my espresso and marvel at how nice it is to have breakfast before a shower.
For that’s what Sundays are for.