Sunday Morning Blues

"Why aren't you out of bed yet. Hurry up and go eat so you can get ready," mom yelled into my bedroom.

I roll over and cover my head with a pillow as she leaves. I'm going back to sleep, I don't even get up for school this early. I can play Paper Mario all day in my pajamas. That's all I want to do today.

"Boy, I told you get up," she pops back into the room.

"I'm not going," I say back to her.

"You gonna tell Jesus you ain't going to church," she asks.

"Dad doesn't have to go to church."

"Is this where you want to be when Jesus comes back?"

"Yes, that's fine with me," I say burying my face deeper into my bed.

She snatches the sheets away from my bed and grabs me by the arm before leading me out of my room and down the stairs. She sits me at the table and pours a bowl of cereal before handing me a spoon. I eat slowly as my younger sister smiles at me from across the table. Of course, she's ready to go. My mother rushes back in with church clothes and dress shoes. I hate dress shoes.

"Hurry up and go put these on so we can go," she says shoving them into my arms.

"But I'm not finished eating," I try to argue. Maybe if I take enough time she'll just leave me.

"If you had gotten up when I said to, you would be. Now go get dressed and I'm not gonna tell you again.

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