Sam's Morning Journey

Today Sam woke up with his head in a bowl of cereal.

Well to be honest that statement is a little misleading as that was actually the second time he woke up, but a story needs a better opening than 'Sam climbed out of bed after he had woken up for the first time that day.' Also now get to know that Sam is a weird, and dare I say possibly even interesting, character. All of this is accomplished in one go, and I am not even sure how many birds I hit with that boulder of a statement, and I digress.

Sam picked up his head from the bowl with milk dripping from his hair. Never before had he fallen asleep in Count Chocula. Yeah sure there were the times that he snoozed in a bowl of Trix, or the very few occurrences when he napped with the marshmallowy embrace of Lucky Charms, but Count Chocula was a new low. Sam didn't let this get him down, for he would justify that it would only be a seasonal occurrence as he only bought Count Chocula in October.

Sam decided that he had to do something about this milk-hair situation as it was sadly not resolving itself. He forced himself to act and actually managed to pull himself out of his chair. Big steps were being made toward self-improvement this morning. In fact, you could say that Sam was really feeling it, and he crossed the threshold of the dinette and entered the den, and might I add that he did this without stubbing his toe on the step separating the two rooms.

This was the first step of the adventure that Sam would have this morning, one that led him toward the towel rack in the bathroom. On his mighty quest Sam encountered such evils, such as his phone fully juiced and connected to his charger. Face book was only one click away, but our hero, being of sound mind and strong body, resisted the temptress and continued on his path.

His next challenge would come in the form of the TV remote lying on the floor across the room. It was begging to be picked up. It screamed Sam's name, but Sam knew that when he started on this journey that some sacrifices would have had to be made. The TV remote continued to lie in its prison of the floor cursed by its own immobility.

Sam reached the final challenge on his path, the bathroom door. It was the most difficult and dangerous task yet, for you see, this door knob, like many door knobs, was made of metal, and being metal, it lent itself to the temperature of the room more easily than an equal door knob of wood or plastic. Sam had made the perilous mistake, when he renting this house, of not checking to see what the door knobs were made out of and to consider what effects the colder weather would have on them. Sam cursed Past-Sam for his carelessness on the matter, but he knew something had to be done. Sam drew his hand from his side and let it hover over the door knob considering the long term consequences of milk in hair. During this time Sam had considered going back to the dinette table and finishing his cereal, but as he looked to that direction, Sam realized that he had come too far to turn back now.

In one quick motion, as to limit his exposure to the cold door knob, he grabbed and turned the knob. He was almost there, and the door was ready to be opened. Sam summoned all the strength he could muster on this brisk October day and pushed through into the bathroom.

He was there, in the dragon's den, and as he looked left into the mirror to see the true shape his hair was in, he noticed that his predicament was far worse than he could have possibly imagined. The towel rack was empty. He quickly turned right as to make sure the mirror was not playing tricks on him, and it was true. Past-Sam had stupidly used the last towel on the rack last night without putting forth the effort to return the towel to its proper location after he had dried himself off.

Sam now faced the dilemma of where his towel could be. He thought back to the events of the previous night.

Sam had exited the shower and, having gotten shampoo in his eyes, was rendered unable to see. He had reached around blindly stumbling into the towel rack and found his salvation. Absentmindedly, Sam had used the towel as he walked into his room—

That's it! Sam had left the towel in his room. Realizing this, sam turned around and exited the bathroom. He turned left down the hallway and proceeded towards his room. When Sam reached his destination, he was confronted with an old foe. Sam was as unprepared as he had been the last time he encountered this problem, but he gritted his teeth and grabbed the cold door knob, twisted it, and entered his room.

Sam could not believe his eyes, his red towel was laying there in the center of the room, ready to be claimed by hands and used to dry his hair. Alas his journey was not over, as his cat, Mittens, lay asleep on the towel. The cuteness inherit in Mittens forbade Sam from disturbing her. Try as he might, Sam could not bring himself to get close and wake her.

Sam was smart enough to know when he had been defeated, his journey came to a forced end. Mittens was his deus ex machina. Sam walked wordlessly to his bed, hanging his head in shame, he ripped the top sheet from his bed and dried his hair.