I am a morning person.

I'm usually up at 4 a.m. By 6 a.m., I've made a pot of coffee, taken a long walk and prepped for breakfast.

My husband, on the other hand, struggles to raise one eyelid.

"It's time to rise and shine," I sing out.

The only retort is a loud groan.

I have tried different tactics in the past to wake him. I started off asking him sweetly to "rise and shine," but the sound of my voice didn't seem to interrupt his sleep.

I turned on the room light, which didn't disturb him at all.

I had my youngest leap on his dad and try to wrestle him awake.

But he only pulled the covers over his head.

My most recent approach was to bark orders like a drill sergeant.

"Your son needs to be at the bus stop at 0730 hours, private!" I shouted.

(This is definitely not the best method, but I felt like I was running out of options.)

"What the heck?" he mumbled and rolled over.

"Lovey, you've got to wake up," I urged. "He's going to miss the bus."

"So what," he said.

"You know if I were your luna (boss), I would have fired you already," I said with a laugh.

"Eh, too late, I quit," came the muffled response.

There is an 'olelo no'eau or wise saying that describes someone who oversleeps.

Ka moe no kau a Mele Wile, ala a'e ua mo'a i ke kuke.

The literal translation of this proverb is; You sleep the sleep of Mary (wife of) Willie; when you awake, the food is cooked.

This is a common saying that was often repeated when referring to someone who slept a lot.

The mo'olelo or story behind this 'olelo no'eau describes William Shipman's wife, Mary, who was annoyed with one of her servants who consistently overslept. One morning, Mary found the servant sleeping. She criticized the servant by uttering this phrase.

The other household servants burst into laughter, which shamed the servant. From then on, the servant never overslept and woke bright and early for her morning chores.

I don't think my husband can be shamed into doing anything. But what seems to work well is if there is a household crisis: a tree limb falling onto our house; a power line snapping at the foot of our driveway, our dogs escaping the confines of the yard to bark at the Fed Ex carrier.

These crises get the adrenaline pumping. And my crisis intervention husband bounds out of bed.

Maybe I can devise another method that's not so drastic that will get his blood flowing in the morning.

"Hey, honey, south-shore swell is up."

Reach Ka'ohua Lucas at Family Matters, 'Ohana section, The Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Hono-lulu, HI 96802; fax 525-8055.