Growing up, it wasn’t easy to get my brothers or me out of bed. My mother tired of the rigamarole early on (it was a fairly hopeless business) and by high school, the job of getting us to the bus stop on time was left to my dad. His method was to open a window and holler Hello World! to which, The World would respond, Hello Georgie!
His imaginary back and forth continued:
I’m comin’ out there to getcha, World!
I’m waitin’ for ya, Georgie!
Then he’d come to us, room by room, and tell us a great day was here. Slowly, feet would hit…