Sparks and fireworks

Kadizzle wakes up like a sloth he blossoms like some kind of skunkweed flower.  Every step is a chore, and he is a lumbering lump of lard. Not so for the Commander.  The Commander jumps out of bed shouting orders like a drill sergeant.  Shut the window, raise the shade, fire the cannon.  You know those fourth of July things that spin and go into the air, that is The Commander in the morning. 

Kadizzle likes to come alive slowly.  The Commander does a flip out of bed and lights every fuse.  Kadizzle tries to concentrate and have a train of thought. The Commander runs in circles barking orders and laying out her plan of attack.  Kadizzle cannot get a whole thought put together before the little bumble bee buzzes and drives the train of thought of the track.  So here we go the spring is wound, and steam is flying out her ears. Cut the grass, polish the camper, go, go, go.