Wide

I wish my bed was wider.  As I sit here watching my husband and three sons fight over the covers.  The giggles, squeeles, tugging, and tucking as they all try to get a piece of the blankets. 
My youngest is not on the bed, but with his little feet planted firmly on the floor, he tries to pull all the covers off the bed.  He, then, drops them and starts peeking under them, looking for toes to tickle, I imagine.  My husbands foot pops out and my youngest lets out a laugh.
My middlest, has the covers over his head and almost looks like just a pile of blankets, minus the giggles and comments coming from the pile.
My husband is participating in one of his favorite a.m. activities.  His HAM radio is cracking and popping as men check-in for the morning.  He comments about Dave as he signs on for the day.  My children know Dave, we have picked apples in his backyard. 
My youngest has reset my timer.  As I tell him to, "STOP," I figure my time is about up and I should, STOP.