"Get up. Breakfast is ready."
"Are you dressed yet?"
"Wash your face."
"Are you up yet?"
"You're going to miss the school bus!"
The bedrooms in the house where I grew up were all downstairs. So was the bathroom, furnace, clothes dryer and chest deep freeze. The basement stayed cool in the summer. In the winter a gas stove radiated a modest amount of heat. The cement floor directly in front of it was warm and toasty. That is where my brother or I stayed if we were waiting for our turn in the bathroom.
In the mornings when we didn't want to get out of bed our mother would yell instructions, warnings and eventually threats down the stairs from the kitchen. If we lollygagged too long, our dad would assume the 'getting the kids out of bed' duties. He didn't employ threats of dire consequences if we weren't clothed and sitting at the breakfast table in three seconds. He developed a quiet, effective method of persuasion.
Remember that deep freeze I mentioned earlier?
A package of frozen hamburger or tube of frozen orange juice concentrate applied to the bottom of warm feet will result in said sleepy children leaping out of bed and changing from pajamas to school clothes in record time. After the first time, all it took was the sound of the squeaky hinges on the freezer door being raised to persuade us it was time to get ready for school.
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