Glittering sunlight. That had been the thing to wake him up. Not the peeping chirps of the freshly hatched chicks which roosted in the tree outside his house. Not the hymns of whatever lyrical verse his mother was singing. Not even the smell of food which wafted around the small, one-room cottage without effort. It was the sunlight of a very early dawn which peeked out from gently billowing curtains.

"Morning sweetie," his mother had called from the stove at her notice of his rumblings. They were the only two in the house, both knew as much -- both had awoken to the sound of a clambering door even before the sun had come up signaling the departure of his father for work -- so there was no need to stay quiet any longer. Albert's response was to simply snuggle even deeper into the covers of his bed, not wanting to start his day without another hour of sleep at least. "Oh come on," his mother had said in slight frustration, "I didn't raise my son to be a lazy-bones who can't get out of bed! Now come sit at the table, breakfast is ready." It was only with the commanding voice of his mother that Albert had found the will power to get out of bed, even if he dragged the cover lazily with him.

"Bacon and eggs again," the boy mumbled as he sleepily rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "But of course," his mother had responded cheerily with a smile on her face, "Lots of protein for mommy's growing boy after all." Albert moaned in response as he sat at the table and draped his blanket around him; it was a response to which his mother was not especially pleased. "Well then what would his majesty much rather prefer? Maybe some sausage? Lasagna?" It was not a quip that the little boy necessarily understood. "Pancakes!" he nearly shouted, all sleep gone from his demeanor. It was certainly not a reaction that his mother was expecting, and simply chuckled to herself. "Well, maybe tomorrow," she responded after a small fit, "We do have to go to the market today."

~

Breakfast was over, and the morning had come in full swing. Albert was busy picking things from their small vegetable garden and his mother was busy perfecting the cleanliness of her small abode while making their lunch; roasted game meat stew (a specialty if there ever was one). Albert had briefly felt out of place in this time -- "Food's done, Albie!" -- but quickly got over it. "Coming mommy!"

He burst through the door and sat at the table eagerly, unlike earlier. "Best eat up fast," his mother said, bringing him a bowl and spoon to the table, "We've got a trip in the mountains to attend to." The soup almost bubbled with her words. "Your father will join us after he's done at the station, but for now, eat up! Today's going to be a long day with a wonderful picnic for dinner!"