Saturday mornings, like yours I'm assuming, are my favorite mornings of the week.

For obvious reasons, of course.

No one rushing out of the house before the sun rises.

You've set aside the day to do your wish list or to simply do nothing at all if you're lucky enough.

For me, Saturday mornings are summed up in one word.

Chipmunks. We, being my wife and two kids, noticed a few chipmunks and squirrels that would

meander underneath the bird feeder. Basically, waiting for falling scraps the birds would

dismiss or that the seed would fall from the birdfeeder itself.

But in doing so, we noticed how it was wreaking havoc on the yard underneath the bird feeder.

So, in the mornings, I would put a little bit of bird seed at the entrance doorstep,

to which Chippy, Harry, Marv, and Pretty Boy,

yes, we have named them, felt as if they had been promoted to high society and having their

own personal butler, to which I delightfully have obliged. Oh, yeah, back to Saturday. With

fresh coffee in hand, my wife and I sit at the entrance, watching the adorable creatures,

stuffed their cheeks full of seed after seed with unabashedly.

And to be honest, it's rather enchanting to watch.

We'll sit there sometimes for at least an hour, maybe two, and just catch up on the week,

or we just zone out in complete contented silence.

The kids will come sit for a little bit and laugh, but then run back to Super Mario Brothers.

All four of us glazing mindlessly and her each preferred delicacies of mental detox.

But it's Saturday mornings where I hang my emotional hats and let the time pass with a smile.

The days are hard enough with all this year as handing the world right now.

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