I know you're just a wee lad -- only 14 months and all - so you can be excused for your unfamiliarity with Daylight Saving Time and the proper etiquette surrounding it.
You've been a good member of the team so far, but unless you want to be benched or traded to another team, you're gonna have to figure this one out buddy.
Did you see the clock this morning? It said 4:46 a.m.
As in 4 o'clock. IN THE MORNING! A classmate from high school calls that "the butt crack of dawn." I tend to agree.
It's when donut makers, newspaper delivery folks and farmers start their day. Not us.
Did you happen to look out the window? Totally dark. That's a dead give away, Mister. It means it's nighttime and, stay with me here, I know it's a hard concept, but nighttime means sleep time.
As if you needed anymore clues to the obvious, did you notice that no one else in the house was awake? The lights were off. Everyone was quiet.
Listen, most of us big people don't get it either. We change the clocks twice a year because that's what we're told to do. It's a centuries old notion to give us more light on delicious summer nights and dreadful winter mornings.
The Internet tells me it saves energy, encourages shopping, fuels the economy and cuts down on traffic accidents. It also tells me that pedestrian fatalities skyrocket the first few weeks after the clocks are set back in autumn.
That's what we call yin and yang. You'll learn about that later.
Anyway, Wikipedia tries to explain the arbitrary time change like this:
"Daylight Saving is the practice in some places of adjusting clocks forward in the Spring and back in the Fall, usually by one hour, so that the adjustment causes parents heads to explode when their children wake an hour early and caterwaul to the heavens until those parents drag themselves from bed, scrape their brains off the floor and walk like zombies from Day of the Dead."
Ok, so I made up the back half of that definition.
But now that you know what Daylight Saving is, here are the new family rules:
Dinner is at 5 o'clock. Please don't start stalking me through the house an hour earlier, head-butting my legs and screaming at my back.
Bedtime is at 7 p.m. Don't you dare flame out any sooner.
And now, for the non-negotiable....
Morning starts at 6 a.m. - the NEW 6 o'clock - and not a minute earlier. Break this rule, Mr. Man, and we're sending you to Grandpa's house.
Hugs and kisses,