【我的故事】《星期六早晨 Saturday morning》|林颖昭 Amelin |

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星期六早晨。。

阳光透过半透明的窗帘照进来，西瓜感觉得到，这个光度应该是七点多吧。
我好想起来。。。可是。。。爬。。。不起来。。。再。。再。。睡一会儿吧。。

好不容易托起的沉重身躯，又一头栽进了柔软的被窝里。

这样的心理交战，持续着持续着折磨着西瓜的心脏。

当然，西瓜这样赖床是绝对让她心里难受的。
因为，她这种不认输给周末的强硬性格，早晨一定得做些什么有意义的事情，赖床以后一定会陷
入自责的泥沼里。

可是， 现在， 竟然爬。不。起。来！！！
半睡半醒的西瓜已经在那里埋怨自己了。再次醒过来时，已经八点了。
到了八点，西瓜终于战胜睡魔， 跳出了睡床的魔咒网。

速速， 西瓜脱下丝绸睡裙，换上昨晚穿的便衣，冲下楼去，跑到阿公家把门猛地推开。
在，还是，不在？
幸好，门一拉开，第一眼映入眼帘的便是阿公从摇椅斜头望着她，阿麽在从稍远的睡房停下脚步
望着她。
他们还在。

西瓜便放下心坐到阿公身旁的沙发上。
你现在才来，我跟阿麽都去湖边散步，吃咯地插乃回来了。阿公说道。

不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不不！！！

我迟了一步！
西瓜内心煎熬地呐喊。

西瓜感觉身体一阵一阵地凉，好像玩游戏时没有得到应得的分数与金块

但是，西瓜还是感到很开心，平静的开心。西瓜最爱属于她和阿公星期六早上的甜美时光。

虽然今天错过了和阿公的出游早餐记。但是，早餐不是重点，阿公才是。
所以西瓜坐在阿公旁边也觉得没什么遗憾。

阿公没说话，西瓜也没说话。西瓜看着桌上的报纸还有一个装饼干的盒子。
西瓜打开来看，是她喜欢的古早味喜饼。只有在阿公家才吃得到。
配上一杯热腾腾的米咯，应该可以成一顿不错的早餐。

她望着阿公家干净又安静的四周围，感觉自己很
幸福。因为阿公家就是阿公家，永远都有一种看故事书时，场景设在阿公家的怀旧与温馨的爷孙情怀，与不说话的爱。

西瓜转头望向橱柜上的米咯巧克力粉，想起好久没喝阿麽的米咯。以前小时候， 西瓜拜访阿公阿麽的星期六早晨，那时肯定不只是她一个人坐在阿公阿麽的沙发上，而是包括西瓜的弟弟妹妹，还有堂弟堂妹。无可否认，现在大家都长大了，周末早晨的位子都让给了赖床魔，只剩下西瓜还迷恋着星期六与阿公的早晨时光。只不过今天她也迟到了。

阿公，我泡米咯喝咯。西瓜说道。
嗯。阿公呆凝望着前方，似有似无含糊的作了一声。
西瓜用阿麽的大瓶保温瓶倒热水，蒸汽模糊了她的眼镜。西瓜想，以后她也要买一个类似的热水保温瓶，想阿麽一样。

泡好了，阿公突然说。那个盖子盖紧些。
咦，阿公在跟谁讲话？西瓜转过头看，看到阿公的脸也稍微转过来望着她。哦，跟我。

那个盖哦，如果没盖紧，那个粉就会变硬。上次就是米咯粉还剩下一点点不知道谁没盖紧粉就变硬了。

阿公语重心长地说。阿公阿麽最喜欢用米咯粉的铁盒包装。

It is a Saturday morning.

The energetic sun has just raised and buttery rays penetrated through the semi transparent curtain slide. Judging by the brightness of the still gloomy room, one could estimate that the time is now slightly over seven in the morning.

Wadermelon is still sleeping , her reactivated consciousness could just make her realise that morning has arrived and the night was over. Her will wants to wake up, but the body and brain wouldn't let in. Biologically, Wadermelon is still lying in the cosy, soft and smooth mattress of her bed, and the skin and muscles are still in a still and hibernate mood.

This absolutely angered her will and soul. The first battle of the body and soul of Wadermelon has begun.

She struggles hard to lift up her body, but soon it drops back down to the welcoming pillows.
In this case of torture, it makes Wadermelon's heart started to lit a sparkle of rage. Wadermelon hates herself to wake up late in a Saturday morning. She definitely forbit herself to waste a beautiful morning, being lazy, ineffective and imperfect.

But calculate from the current situation, we see that Wadermelon kind of losing the battle of the body and soul. She can't wake up.

Wadermelon drifts in and out of the vanishing dream. When she is once more reconnected to the sunrays surround her, the time shows eight ten in the morning.
She quickly bumps out of bed and changes her silk night gown into yesterday's evening casual outfit.

In no time, she dashed down the stairs, rushed like flash to grandfather's room and open the door.... ...
Is grandfather still there or not? She prays yes.

Fortunately, the first sight fells into Wadermelon's vision is her grandfather turning to watch her curiously from the rocking chair and her grandmother stops in motion and turns her attention towards Wadermelon in the far end bedroom.

Wadermelon lets go a relief sigh and sit on the sofa beside grandfather.

Grandfather acknowledges the arrival of Wadermelon and said,
why are you so late, my dear? We have already been to the lake side, have our breakfast and returned.

Nooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!
This couldn't be, she thought.

She feels like her heart drops like glass onto the groud and shatters to pieces. And as if herself has been sucked out of her shell flesh.
Wadermelon feels her blood goes cold like how a gamer would feel after missing some amount of golds and points in a game.

But, after breathing and reconsider her emotions, she is overall gladful to be here at the moment. At least, she is here in her grandfather's living room. With her lovely grandfather. Not the breakfast that matters, but the acquaintance with her old folks.

Grandfather rocks on the chair silently, the whole environment of the room is peace as if the time has stopped with the ceiling fan solely spinning monotonously. Wadermelon doesn't feel like talking as well for she understands  relationship do not rely on conversation but company. She looks at the table in front of her, there is a sheet of newspaper of don't know when, and a container consist of two types of biscuits. One of them a traditional delicacy which can only be found in grandfather's place.
It is Wadermelon's favourite. She thought, a cup of Milo with the bean cake should do a fine breakfast.

She contently looks around the surrounding of grandfather's living room , that confirms a clean and quiet quality, eventually realises that she is a fortunate girl. Because a grandfather's house would always be a grandfather's house no matter it is new or old. Wadermelon can immerse in the gentle love of grandfather just by existing in the dimension of grandfather.

She turns her head to look at the grandmother's cupboard with all the utensils , cups, and little munchies and tablets being arranged in a particular tidy and simple manners, and spots a tin of Milo.

She remembers that grandmother would make her a cup of Milo for her when she was younger and she unconsciously inquires to herself, since when does she decrease the amount of visiting her favourite grandparents?

When everyone was still babies and small childrens, grandfather's place were always packed with a bunch of kids including Wadermelon's siblings and next door cousins. Can't really ignore the fact that those times were just a few years back which her mind is still ironed with fresh memories.

In a blink of time, every grandchildren have turned into young men and women whom busy routines tired them out of bone which they have to sacrifice the rejoicing moments with grandpapa and grandmama to allowed the late wakers to lead.
Finally, it just left Wadermelon who stills wouldn't let go of the pampered moments of grandfather.

Grandpa, I make myself a cup of Milo okay? Wadermelon states.
Sure... Granpa stares blankly to the space infont and makes a careless and casual mumble.
Wadermelon uses grandma's big size iron hot water bottle to pour out the hot water. The steam fogs out her glasses. She thought, in the near future, she would by a same kind of hot water bottle too.

When you finish, keep the cover closed securely. Grandfather suddenly makes a comment.
Who's he talking to? Wadermelon wonders and turns to look at grandfather.
Grandfather has just slightly bend his neck to her direction.
Oh, noted.

If you didn't fasten it properly, the Milo powder gets to be stone. Last time, I don't know who leaves the cap unfastened and the powder got dried up.

Grandfather mentioned seriously.
Grandpa and grandma like to use the Milo tin the most instead of plastic packaging, and Wadermelon gonna buy the same one in near future.

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