I wake up face down in a puddle of drool. I have to get up carefully and slowly. Man, am I sore. And I smell. I fell asleep before I could take a shower last night. I lift up my arms and I'm punched in the face by my own B.O. I really need a shower. I pull my shirt over my head and toss it in my hamper on my way to the bathroom. When I get to the bathroom near my room, Drew's already in there brushing his teeth.

"Can you do that downstairs, kid? I need a shower."

Drew looks at me but keeps on brushing his teeth in small, deliberate circles the way my dad taught him. He finishes up and dribbles foamy spit into the sink.

"I'm almost done," he says and brings the toothbrush to his mouth again.

I nod and turn on the water in the shower. The water streams from the faucet and I let it run over my fingers. It's cold, but that's just what I need. A nice cold shower. I sit on the side of the tub and kick off my sneakers and socks. Drew's still standing by the sink. Dear Lord, now he's flossing.

"Hurry up will ya?" I play with the water impatiently.

"You can't rush good dental hygiene, Matthew."

"No, but I can rush your life, Andrew," I nudge him gently.

He smiles knowing I'm just kidding around.

"I'll tell Dad," he warns.

"What's he gonna do?" I say now and reach into the stream of water and flick some at Drew.

"Hey," he jumps and shakes out the back of his shirt. "That's freezing."

"I know. I like it like that."

"You're crazy."

"Am I?" I say and jump up to grab him.

He squirms as I drag his head towards the gush of cold water running from the faucet. In between laughs, he begs me not to. I won't, but I pull him closer and farther away and closer again, teasing him.

"You still think I'm crazy?"

"No! No," He says through his laughter. Finally, I let him go and he runs out of the bathroom. I shut the door and after stripping off the rest of my clothing, I hop in the shower.

The ice-cold water runs over me, numbing my weak body. I close my eyes and stand perfectly still just enjoying it. After I take in that feeling, I hold it inside and do what I have to do. You know, shampoo, soap, that whole thing. I turn the water off quickly, I'm starting to get cold, and grab a towel. I wrap that towel around my waist and jump out. I get another towel for my hair and shake it out until it's dry. All the while I walk back to my room. Across the way, Kiersten's still sleeping in her bed. Just to be safe I grab my clothes and change in the bathroom. Don't want her waking up and seeing me standing there naked or something.

I throw on some gym shorts and a t-shirt and head downstairs for breakfast. My dad's sitting at the kitchen table cutting up a banana for Marcie. Drew and Carrie sit at the counter. Drew's got a plate full of Eggo waffles and Carrie's got a toaster strudel. Drew cuts his Eggo waffle in half and Carrie does the same to her toaster strudel. They make a trade, half an Eggo for half a toaster strudel. Then they carry out the final step of their morning routine. Drew holds up his glass of apple juice and Carrie her glass of orange juice. They mix 'em together, clink glasses and each takes a quick swig.

Sometimes I wish I could be just a year older than Drew and Carrie. Then I could have fun with them like that. You know, just mess around. Being the older brother really sucks sometimes. Especially since my mom left and my dad doesn't have anyone to help him out. Besides me, I mean.

"Hey, Matt, grab me a napkin," my dad says.

See? If my dad needs help with something, I'm the first one he calls. But I do it without complaint. I get my dad his napkin and when he asks me if I could maybe just clean up that milk that Marcie spilled? I do that, too.

"How do you feel today?" My dad asks me, as I sit down at the kitchen table. He half looks at me, half watches Marcie to make sure she doesn't make too much of a mess.

"I'm okay," I say.

"Just okay?"

"Yeah, tired."

He nods and gets up from the table and walks around a bit.

"Watch MarMar. I'll make you something," he opens up the fridge and stares into it like he's looking out into an empty field. "What do you want?"

I shrug. My dad can't really make much. I mean, not unless I want a cheeseburger for breakfast, which actually doesn't sound that bad. I'm starving.

"I'll eat anything."

My dad laughs.

"I know you will," he says and reaches into the fridge and pulls out all sorts of stuff.

"Anything in particular?" My dad asks.

"Bacon?"

My dad checks back into the fridge and nods.

"We have bacon. How about some eggs?"

"Yeah, eggs are good."

"I can make you pancakes," Carrie chimes in. "Kiersten taught me."

"How about french toast, she teach ya that?"

"Yeah." Carrie nods. "So french toast instead of pancakes?"

"How 'bout both?"

"French Toast and pancakes?" She asks in her cute little seven-year-old voice.

Carrie really is adorable. Probably because she looks like me. Lucky her, she got that same weird strawberry hair that I got from my dad. Hers is more blonde though, with little tints of red. Me and her got my dad's looks while Drew and MarMar got my mom's.

"And bacon and eggs." My dad adds.

I guess I should take the time to say that my family doesn't usually cater to me like this. Most of the time I fend for myself. And when I'm not doing that, I'm busy catering to everyone else. So, what I'm trying to say is, I'm loving this.

My dad places his half of my breakfast in front of me and I dig right in. Not the best I've ever had, but of course I scarf it down anyway. Once I'm about halfway through with that Carrie gives me the french toast and pancakes. And good thing too, because I can tell you right now that plate full of eggs and bacon was not going to do it for me.

"Is it good?" Carrie asks with big eyes as I chew through a mouthful of french toast and pancakes. I nod my head and stuff some more in my mouth.

"Yeah, thanks."

Carrie smiles and then runs off to find Drew, who left about ten minutes ago to watch T.V. I finish up my breakfast and bring my dishes to the sink. I turn on the water and tell my dad to bring me Drew and Carrie's dirty dishes. MarMar waddles off to follow Drew and Carrie on somewhat of a delayed reaction, but hey, she's four. That leaves me and my dad alone. My dad picks up a towel and starts drying the dishes I just washed.

"You sore from last night, bud?"

I shrug and hand my dad a bowl.

"Yeah, a little."

"You think you'll be good for tonight?"

"Yeah, I can work through it," I answer.

My dad finishes drying the last dish and pats me on the back.

"I know you can."

Well, I think to myself, I guess we'll find out tonight.