There are a few things in our week that never change. Church is on Sunday. Thursday is Trash Day. We must leave the house by 7:23 on school mornings to make it there on time.
For two years it has been 7:23.
Yesterday morning at 7:15, The Princess sat on my bed, fully dressed, eating a pop-tart and staring into space. She asked The King if he thought she was going to be ready on time since we usually (usually?) leave at 7:23. She wondered if we would be leaving at 7:23 today.
I mean, all she had left to do was brush her teeth, brush her hair, put on her shoes and coat, gather her belongings and get out the door.
A portion of those precious 8 minutes were spent in her bathroom.
Her upstairs bathroom.
I am downstairs packing her lunch, checking her backpack, writing her teacher a note and, you know, blogging.
She begins screaming, “Mom, you’ve got to come up here. Hurry! Mom! I need you. Quick, Mom!”
I take the stairs two at a time putting my life at risk.
“What is it, Princess?”
“Can you go into your bathroom and get my hairbrush for me?”
Isn’t it CUTE how time has no meaning to a 10-year-old?