I don’t usually flake on people.

Not usually. If there is something I can’t do, I usually don’t agree to it. Which means I say “no” a lot. But when I say “yes”, most of the time I follow-through.

But I flaked on my running friend this morning. After a night of soothing the nightmares of one little girl and sharing my bed with both little girls at different times throughout the night, I couldn’t get up at 4:55 a.m. (in order to meet her by 5:15). I just couldn’t do it.

My phone was by my bed, so I did the only thing I knew how to do at that evil time of the morning.

I texted:

Dont hate me. Had a really bad night. Ill call you later in the day. Im sorry.

She texted me back like a good friend would (15 minutes later, after she had already gotten HERself out of bed and put HER clothes on, and was waiting on HER front porch for me.):

No worries. Of course I dont hate you. Well talk later. Im sorry you had a bad night.

So I slept in a little. And it was what I needed. I opened my eyes at about 7 when the summer sun was already bright in my bedroom window. Everyone else in the house was still asleep in different positions throughout the upstairs.

My oldest daughter was sprawled across her bed after the tossing and turning of her dreams. Her father had re-deposited her there at about 2:30 a.m. after she’d slept briefly in our bed in a post-dream worry.

My littlest one was still between us in our bed, snoring her tiny toddler snore that comes from the deepness of rest. My husband was sleeping, despite the brightness of our room, back turned toward both of us.

For a second, I felt the sinking feeling like I’d done something stupid or lost something. Ohhh. I didn’t run. I had almost forgotten my pre-five in the morning texting session and the run I’d missed out on. I regretted it for half a minute.

Then I heard the morning sounds. A car leaving our neighborhood for an office somewhere. The pigeons that have nested in our chimney. The little snores. My cat crying at the top of the stairs begging to be let into our room. These are the sounds I don’t hear at 5 a.m. when it is dark and still very quiet.

And I still feel bad I flaked on my friend (I did call her with profuse apologies. It turned out that she also needed the running break and used the quiet of her own house to bake cookies for her family early in the morning).

But I don’t feel bad I missed out on the extra two hours of rest and new cuddles with little girls, blurry-eyed and fresh from sleep, still smelling warmly of their beds. I don’t feel so bad that I stayed in bed to be a part of this Monday morning slumber party.

Oh, maybe one more text to my forgiving (non-flaky) friend before she starts her week:

Again stupidly sorry. I owe you frozen yogurt.