In the morning, I am a notoriously slow starter.  My brain takes a full hour before it is even operating at close to “Village Idiot” level.  This is only outdone by my brain on vacation, when it seemingly turns off completely, with the exception of essential life support systems.

Last night, I had trouble sleeping.  Probably due to a mixture of somewhat overweightness (a medical term, if ever there was one), middle age, and around 1AM every morning having a dog of medium proportions leap from the floor and land partially on my head.  Good thing my pillow absorbs some of the impact.  Not wanting to wake my wife, who was now cuddling with the formerly flying dog, I went downstairs to read.

Sitting in the living room, I was soon joined by our early rising son, 8-year-old Sam.  Sam is a kid that is constantly in movement, whether it be physically or mentally (see the illustrations below).

This is a good representation of me peering into an open refrigerator, as Sam runs laps around his plump elder.

This illustrates me moving to the other side of the kitchen to consume my grazing food of choice that I just snatched out of the open refrigerator, as Sam circled me.

No amount of caffeine is ever going to fully close this gap.

So there we were sitting in the living room, Sam who goes from 0 to 60 instantly upon waking up (he gets this entirely from his mother) and his father, who is still trying to fully comprehend that either of them are awake.  Then the first thing that exits Sam’s 2^nd Grade mouth, the very first thing was, “Did you know that time’s not real?”  Whoa, hold on son.  It’s too early for a deep thought.  Dad needs to catch up, little Einstein.  Let’s say we meet back here at 3PM, after Dad’s Saturday afternoon nap.  You bring a copy of Aristotle’s thoughts on time and a copy of NASA’s field training manual.  I will bring a pot of black coffee.