The viagara dance

You know that viagara commercial? The one where everyone in the pretty little neighbourhood with the white picket fences is dancing around joyously, while the music of Queen’s We are the Champions plays in the background?

That was me this morning. No, I didn’t get lucky last night, although that might have elicited a similar reaction. Actually, it was better than sex – yes, there is such a thing.

This morning, this beautiful morning filled with sunshine and birdsong, I woke up to the sound of my alarm. Not to the sound of someone driving a tonka truck over an exersaucer, not to a hungry bellow from the crib, not to a tiny voice yanking on my blankets and saying, "Move over Mommy." Not in the middle of the night, not in the pre-dawn gloaming, but in the morning. AFTER the sun rose. In daylight.

I closed my eyes at 9:45 pm last night, and opened them for the first time a restful and energizing eight hours and ten minutes later.

And now, if you’ll please excuse me, I have to go leap over some tall buildings or race a speeding bullet or something...