Morning Moments

Most mornings start with a small, familiar ritual.

I’m usually already awake, lying in bed with our little dachshund curled beside me. We both listen for the sound of the latte machine humming in the kitchen, a soft promise that my husband is getting our day started.

There’s a rhythm to it now: the waiting, the listening, the quiet anticipation.

When he finally opens the door, coffee in hand, the pup stirs. Sometimes he pretends he’s still asleep — as if he’s trying to avoid the inevitable: being scooped up for his morning trip outside.

But almost always, just as my husband leans down to kiss me good morning, the dog wiggles closer and showers me with kisses first — a clumsy, affectionate ambush.

It’s a funny little tangle of love: my husband reaching for me, our dachshund reaching for me, both claiming their place.

And I’m right there in the middle of it — smiling into the soft, sweet chaos of a brand-new day.