Murdered Sleep-in

The clock radio alarm is going off. brrrring-brrrring... brrrring-brrrring...
No, it's not an alarm. That's the phone. "Hello? Half the team has dropped out? You need him to play tennis... now? Yeah... I'll get him to the court in 20 minutes."
I was lucky. SonOfVirge entered the waking world in a positive mood. We got there by 8:30. I returned home.
Breakfast. Coffee. Blob. Browse. Muck about with camera. Chat.
Half the household had left before 7am on a peer-group-aided extreme shopping binge. A quarter was playing tennis. This remaining quarter was taking it easy.
I tell myself it was good that I had been forced to wake up and get out of bed. Sleeping in would only have left me with a headache. The tennis coordinator really did me a favour by ringing at that hour of the morning. It's strange that I didn't fully appreciate it at the time.