Once upon a time, I used to get places five minutes early so as to avoid being late. During those long ago days, on the rare occasion that I was late getting somewhere, I felt terribly embarrassed and blamed the traffic or my faulty alarm or, sometimes, the fact that I'd locked myself out of my car. (Sidenote: It's been a really long time since I've locked myself out of the car. Progress!)
Nowadays, I am never on time. Never. Ever. But at least my excuses have become more entertaining:
-I told the children to put on their shoes and then, I went to find my phone and keys. When I got back, they were in the backyard, chasing each other with butterfly nets and eating more of my seedlings. Barefoot, of course.
-I told the five-year-old to get the keys and unlock the car door. I now remember that I should never, ever give the children permission to touch the keys when I am not there to monitor said touching because they will put them down somewhere and forget where they put them. (They were eventually found in the pantry beside the gummy vitamins.)
-I gave one of them a glass of water, which he promptly spilled. And then, in an attempt to be helpful, he lay down in the puddle to "wipe it up" with his shirt. Which he then had to change.
-The cat ran out the door as we were leaving. Once he got outside, he remembered that he hates being outside, but he was too proud to go back inside, so he stood there hissing and spitting until I went and got him.
-I told the children that if they didn't want to wear shoes right that moment, they could carry their shoes to the car. And because I neglected to say that they should then carry those shoes into the car, they left them lined up on the driveway and informed me of that fact after we had turned left at the light that takes forever to turn green.
-I thought it would be a good idea to make a quick stop at the store for some berries on our way out. It is never a good idea to make a quick stop at the store. There is no such thing as a quick stop at the store.
-When I opened the car door, there was a slight musty odor and Weston decided that a woodchuck must be living in the car. Finding the idea humorous at first, I played along with it, which resulted in terrifying him--since when is he scared of woodchucks??--and he refused to be in the car until I checked it thoroughly for any furry occupants. (There was no woodchuck. There was, however, a container of hummus from the day before. Blech.)
Nowadays, I am never on time. Never. Ever. But at least my excuses have become more entertaining:
-I told the children to put on their shoes and then, I went to find my phone and keys. When I got back, they were in the backyard, chasing each other with butterfly nets and eating more of my seedlings. Barefoot, of course.
-I told the five-year-old to get the keys and unlock the car door. I now remember that I should never, ever give the children permission to touch the keys when I am not there to monitor said touching because they will put them down somewhere and forget where they put them. (They were eventually found in the pantry beside the gummy vitamins.)
-I gave one of them a glass of water, which he promptly spilled. And then, in an attempt to be helpful, he lay down in the puddle to "wipe it up" with his shirt. Which he then had to change.
-The cat ran out the door as we were leaving. Once he got outside, he remembered that he hates being outside, but he was too proud to go back inside, so he stood there hissing and spitting until I went and got him.
-I told the children that if they didn't want to wear shoes right that moment, they could carry their shoes to the car. And because I neglected to say that they should then carry those shoes into the car, they left them lined up on the driveway and informed me of that fact after we had turned left at the light that takes forever to turn green.
-I thought it would be a good idea to make a quick stop at the store for some berries on our way out. It is never a good idea to make a quick stop at the store. There is no such thing as a quick stop at the store.
-When I opened the car door, there was a slight musty odor and Weston decided that a woodchuck must be living in the car. Finding the idea humorous at first, I played along with it, which resulted in terrifying him--since when is he scared of woodchucks??--and he refused to be in the car until I checked it thoroughly for any furry occupants. (There was no woodchuck. There was, however, a container of hummus from the day before. Blech.)
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