I am more than a little spoiled.
My husband gets up at some ungodly hour most mornings to run. I hear the alarm go off, usually, and roll right back over, taking his side of the bed as he leaves. He runs with friends and does things like nearly stepping on a possum because it's so damn dark and comes home sweaty and pleased with whatever new goal he's met or idea he's gotten or conversation he's had. Meanwhile, The Beastie usually wakes me up and I begrudgingly get out of bed to let the dog out and start fixing breakfast. I turn the coffee pot on -- the husband, who doesn't drink coffee, always has it ready to go -- and typically get as far as pouring orange juice and getting vitamins before the husband comes in and takes over. Many mornings, he's already gotten home and quietly has taken the dog out back to play while he stretches and lets us all get a few more minutes of sleep. The few mornings when he's not right in, I get downright cranky. He butters pancakes and pours cereal and corrects the dog and I retreat to my chair with my coffee, sometimes snuggling a boy or two on my lap until he's gotten their breakfast on the table.
He eats with the boys. I sit in my chair with coffee, breakfast and my phone or a book. He watches baseball highlights with them and fetches more water, more cereal, more yogurt raisins, more, more, more.
He usually herds them into the bedroom to get dressed while I go to shower. When it's his turn in the bathroom, he crates the dog so I can put on my makeup in peace.
I leave early for work, so he's left to oversee the boys picking up the toys they've scattered and to wrangle them out the door.
Of course, I get the evening shift. I pick up the boys from school and fix dinner and play with the dog after she's been cooped up in a crate all day. I empty lunch boxes and get the mail and the trash bins and clean up the kitchen while he bathes the boys or vice versa. I read bedtime books and play the heavy when the the boys don't want to go to bed. I do my fair share of parenting.
But he's traveling this week. And, while the boys and I are getting along just fine by ourselves, I'm quite sick of drinking cold coffee every morning.