easy as sunday mornings

i wish everything were as easy as Sunday mornings...
i have fond memories of Sunday mornings as a kid since it was the one day of the week my parents were off from work. we'd wake up to the clanking of pots and pans from the kitchen and the scent of something yummy wafting through the vents. Dad would have Vivaldi or an aria on full volume to fill our small apartment and we'd hear the rise and fall of his deep voice as he reminisced about old times with Mom. while rubbing the sleep from my eyes, smelling breakfast, and hearing the cacophony of familiar sounds, it was the only time i felt completely safe. it was the only moment that i didn't need to worry about or feel responsible for anything. no pretending to be a young adult... just being me was enough.

God, i miss that feeling.