Wake-y wake-y eggs and bac-y

Every morning, Conor wakes up full of energy, skipping and jumping and bouncing balls and screeching at the top of his lungs.

It can be four o'clock in the morning, or it can be seven o'clock, but he is up and full of ideas and things to do and places to go and tokens to earn and songs to download and videos to watch and treasure chest time to earn and most importantly, balls to bounce.  Loudly.

My Aidan also wakes up full of energy and gusto, but he's learned to park himself in front of the TV to give me time to acclimate to the fact that I'm upright and my eyes should be open.

(At least on the weekends.  On school days, I'm the first one up and ready, with a coffee cup glued to my right hand. School ROCKS.)

"Aidan," I said this morning over our cereal bowls, "where do you and Conor GET all this energy?  I want some of that!"

Aidan leaned over to me and conspiratorially whispered in my ear.  "Sugar, Mom.  Sugar."