Kid Wakes Parents With Laser Light Show

The wake-up time is still 6:24, and so at 6:24 every morning we wake, by which I mean Laurea and I wake, because Kina has usually already been awake for at least thirty or forty-five minutes—a part of Kina’s day about which Laurea and I, by definition, know very little. It is possible to infer a few things from the fossil record, though: She plays, because toys are out; she dresses, because clothes are out (and on her body); and she prepares, because every morning wake-up call brings with it a fully-formed plan for how she will spend her time with Laurea (often) or me (occcasionally).

Kina does not so much wake us as entertain us into consciousness, using a full arsenal of auditory and visual cues from her room. Some days, she brings her tiny flashlight. On others, she waves a long ribbon around. Today, she walked into our room with her Elsa radio, which plays exactly one song, “Into the Unknown”, from Frozen 2, at length and in snippets, both instrumental and vocal. It is also, thank god, festooned with various flashing blue lights—Elsa’s favorite color—that remind the listener to pay close attention to the small child singing along, in case they had forgotten.

Like a tiny Lloyd Dobler, Kina entered the room this morning with the radio held aloft, playing whooshing noises and showering the room with shafts of icy blue light. I can remember being her age and trying to imagine an experience (for Mother’s Day, say) that my parents might like; in hindsight, my taste was questionable, but what did I know of adulthood and sleep? Likewise, Kina had clearly put thirty minutes of deep thought into her inspired reveille, and she was fully committed to the bit.

We, also, had been committed to her bit, which was jarring for two people who, in the years before Kina existed, never woke up earlier than seven thirty in the morning (and frequently later than nine). In moments like this, Laurea and I sometimes negotiate for the privilege of seeing what immersive experience accompanies our themed wake-up call. I have not asked Laurea what glories awaited her in Kina’s room, but I’m pretty sure they were Frozen-themed. Kina would have spent some time getting them just right for her, and she, with her eight PM bedtime, had had hours of sleep to dream them up.

At 6:24 every morning, we often wonder what it would be like for us also to have gone to sleep at eight the night before, to have forgone the first episode of Ted Lasso and the two good hours of adult conversation Laurea and I have every day. Could be that the trade-off is worth it, and that we might all dream up some wondrous light show to wake each other up the next day. Then again, Kina appears to enjoy doing the work. Who are we to take that from her?

I’m going to bed.

dad