sigh.
**poke poke poke**
"Seth. Seth. It's time to get up. Wake up. Breakfast. Wake up!"
** poke poke poke**
It will come as no surprise to anyone that knows my father, that when the alarm clock goes off most mornings, I shoot out of bed, ready to start my day.
It's up and at 'em or die. Not so for my Southern Charmer, who wasn't even mildly amused at my very desperate attempt at pulling him out of bed on Saturday morning for my first ever homemade breakfast at the Meadows Inn.
I really need to start working on my weight lifting if I'm going to make a career out of getting this boy out of bed.
After more poking and ear pulling he finally realized that I wasn't about to give up. You don't mess with the Guckeen women when we're on the path of persistence.
I can't begin to tell you how worth it it was to be out of bed Saturday morning. And I'll even say it had nothing to do with the company.
No, oh no. It was all about the stuffed french toast. The tray that the innkeepers John and Betty brought in put my morning cup of Cheerios to shame.
Even Seth was glad to be out of bed. And with a full belly, I was ready to hit the road for another day of surprises.
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