The first time I realized that I got a sparkly, brand-new dad every morning, I must have been six or seven. My dad would always wake up covered in a thin varnish of wax, shining like a new pair of sneakers. He always had that “New Dad Smell,” and I just couldn’t get enough of it. That was when he took me aside and told me, “Son, if you want to be a brand-new, out-of-the-box Sparklem’n when you stammer out of bed in the morning, you have to go to bed before the big orange Sun sets.” That was his secret, and that’s when I first started going to bed while the big ball of fire was still roaming around the sky looking for someone to burn.
But everything has changed.
Life has gotten busy. Not only am I father, author, and a part-time bagel expert at the Panera Bread down the street, I also have a large rock collection to care for. It has become more and more difficult to crawl into my spongy, damp bed while the Burning Orb of Apollo screeches across the sky. That’s why I’ve pushed my bedtime back to 9:05 PM Eastern Time.
Although nobody in the world really understands Time Zones except me, what I’m trying to say is that I’ll no longer being going to bed before the sleepy wave of darkness laps on the shores of our fancy sky.
I spoke to my Father about this decision on New Year’s Eve, mere minutes before the Sun went down for it’s daily nap. I was already in my scratchy PJ’s, peeling the moist, cold blankets upward so I could scuffle my way into my sleep cocoon. He seemed supportive, but I know this decision was a shock for him. He always had hopes that I too would wake up covered in sticky varnish and glowing like a brand-new firefly.
I think this decision will give me more time for my passions and stone-related hobbies. I’m really looking forward to seeing what the moon looks like in a sunless sky.