Then hubs usually has early morning meetings. Youngest daughter is also fiercely addicted to her bed, so hauling her out without an argument causes all sorts of issues.
The life of an author isn't all sunshine and roses.
The dog has to be walked, the chickens fed. The garden beds need watering and... you guessed it, there is still washing to put away, sweeping to be done and a sundry other jobs that I somehow missed.
It shouldn't be like this.
I should be able to sit at my computer, safe in the knowledge that my writing time is inviolable. That I can achieve 10 000 words while servants bring me my food on etched silver trays.
Humph! If only.