Quiet as a mouse...

It was 5:30 in the madrugada, the sound of school buses warming up to begin their morning rounds droned over the crickets' tired chirps. Perhaps the crickets weren't so tired, but I was and could only imagine how exhausted I would be if I had to chirp all night long.

All still asleep in the house, so Mommy could get a few important tasks completed before helpful little hands would be reaching in over the knives to assist me in taking them out of the dishwasher and putting them away. I clicked on the radio, NPR, with the BBC early morning broadcasting only to those who choose to awaken this early, as I do each morning. Then the litany of the Putting Away of the Dishes ensued.

Perhaps it was the fact I had not adequately warmed-up, as normally I work top-to-bottom and unload the top rack (cups, glasses, little plates, lids, and the like) before I empty the bottom level but, for some reason on Monday I decided to start with the bottom and work up. I put away the silverware and the children's plastic forks, then get to the collection of Designer Tar-get (soft "g", "t" is silent, of course) Dishware, which are sets of mismatched but fun-colored plastic plates of all different sizes that I like to use and which can keep mealtime even more interesting in the eyes of the monitos ("I want that plate." "No, I wanted that one.")

I had five of those in my hand, heading over to their storage space on the counter when, suddenly I sensed slippage in the center...and all five plates fell to the tile kitchen floor with a crash that ought to have awaken have the dead in the cemetary next door.

I stood still, biting my lip.

Would anybody come running? I mean, Mommy could have easily fallen and broken her arm, or Tiggy could have jumped up and knocked something over or, worse yet, somebody could have broken into the house and, in not noticing one of the wisely-set booby traps of toys on the floor could have fallen...

...but nobody stirred. Not one soul.

Lessons learned:

1. Those plastic plates, for being light-weight and pretty and unbreakable and all, can make a heck-of-a-lot of noise when dropped onto tile at 5:30 a.m. I'm told the noise is the same at any hour, but it simply seems less amongst the din of the daily routine.

2. Nobody in this house will wake up and save me from anything, so maybe I should stop rising before everyone else! (nah, that would be too convenient!)

3. I am the only one in this house who will hear if someone breaks in so I had better never sleep! :) Fortunately, our house is so old that I think anybody would be afraid to even try.

4. Five plates at a time, no matter fine china or plastic Tar-get ware, is just too many. Period.

Will I actually learn from and/or practice any of these lessons? Probably not. I'm too stubborn. And now I must excuse myself to go and, um, empty the plastic plates out of the dishwasher yet again, so the day can begin.