There was something about Saturday mornings that felt untouchable.
No alarms.
No school.
No urgency.
The house was quieter than usual, but not silent. The TV was already on. Someone was making tea. You were still in pyjamas and fully intended to stay that way.
Cereal went slightly soggy because you were too busy watching TV.
You flicked between channels like it mattered.
Time didn’t feel real yet.
Saturday mornings weren’t exciting in a loud way — they were exciting because they were safe. Nothing important could happen before lunchtime. The day hadn’t started demanding things from you yet.
It felt like being held in a pause.
I think that’s why we remember them so clearly. Not because of what was on TV — but because of how calm it felt to exist in that space.
Honestly? I’m still chasing that feeling.
Daisy says: bring back mornings with no expectations and unlimited cereal. 💅🥣📺
Asten Does Nostalgia 
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