three little words

Do you want to know the most frustrating words in the English language? The three words that cause everything you are doing to stop, regardless of how late, tired or pissed off you might be.

The 1^st time I heard these words, I never really absorbed the full weight of what was happening. It was one of those really crappy mornings we all have from time to time. I had woken up late and was trying to rush out the door to work.

B.K. [Before Kids] I woke up late all the time with little to no real ramifications. 5 minutes late, no biggie, I’ll get a cup of Joe on the way. 10 minutes late? No biggie, the shirt from two days ago looks pretty clean. Quick sniff test here and [sniff] Houston, we are go. 15 minutes late? Oral hygiene can wait. 30 minutes? Oooh, I feel bad for the guy working next to me.

The point being that there were options. Work arounds. Not anymore. Now it’s, 5 minutes late? Great! There goes the whole freaking day. What the hell, alarm clock?! You have one job! One Job! You stupid, stupid piece of…

Okay, okay, calm down, calm down. Pull it together. You got this. Quick, spring into action. Ninja wake up. Jump out of bed, wake the wife up with a “GET UP, GET UP, GET UP” that use to be reserved for a fire or possibly, a zombie invasion. You run to your child’s room and get her out bed and run back to your room screaming “I’M LATE, I’M LATE, GET UP, GET UP” to a woman who is staring at you through sleep deprived eyes and tussled hair. “WHY AREN’T YOU UP”. She replies with the kind, caring voice of the angel that you have come to love with all your being. “I AM UP! GAWD, WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM?” If you had the time you would probably stop and stare at her incredulously and say “Seriously? I…I just finished saying I’m late!”

But you don’t have time. You’re late.

You run down the stairs, stepping on every pointed toy your child owns; that little triangle block that goes in the triangle hole, the leg of a little tiny table left lying upside down from last nights. As a measure to try and avoid further cuts to the soles of your feet you look down for a second. Ahh, rookie mistake. BOOM, little tiny thumb to the eye! Now you’re hobbled and blind. You manage to make it down the stairs and plop the kid on the couch. You spin and turn on the TV. C’mon, c’mon, please be something she’ll watch for five minutes. YES, Jungle Junction. God bless you, you animal/vehicular mutants.

Okay, the kids good for 15 minutes. Time check. You look at the little clock on the microwave. 20 Minutes!? How the hell did that take 20 minutes? Never mind, you have no time. Quick! Ninja Coffee Brew!

As you take the 1^st scoop of coffee out of the can and throw half of it onto the floor and the other half in the sink, you scream up stairs. “Honey, I need you down here, I’m running late.”

“I’ll be right there, just hold on a minute.”

Once again, if you had time you’d stop and say “Seriously, I just finished saying….never mind.”

You run to the laundry room and grab a shirt out of the laundry. It’s a little wrinkled, but it’ll have to do. Thank god your wife is here. She starts getting breakfast ready while you run to the coffee maker. Pour a cup of a coffee and take 30 seconds to enjoy the smell…Ahhhh…slow down. That smells good. Fresh, delicious wake juice...so good. You lift if to your lips and take a deep sip. And quick, back to the laundry to get a new shirt to replace the one you’re currently wearing that has a huge freaking coffee stain on the front.

You dress. Brush your teeth. Grab a tie. Put the tie on and look into the mirror to see that you haven’t shaved. Screw it! You have no meetings today. I’ll just hide in the office.

Back downstairs. Quick! Ninja Lunch Pack. Can of tuna, two slices of bread, a grapefruit and a bag of porridge. Later, when you’re actually having your lunch you’ll look at this motley mix and think “what the hell was I doing? Porridge?! Who brings Porridge?”

At any rate, its lunch packed. Time for a check and glance over to the microwave and, HOLY F!*%ING CRAP! You run out grab the kid, kiss the wife who may or may not have had a chance to actually dress your child, and run downstairs. Slip on your shoes and bend down to put her cute little pink shoes and…

“No! Me do!”

BOOM GOES THE TIME DELAY DYNAMITE!

Three words. Three little words…

You reply that you don’t have time and return to putting the shoes on.

“NOOOOOO! MEEEEE! DOOOO!”

Crap.

Fine, whatever. You’re already 45 minutes late. A little more won’t hurt. You stand up and cross your arms and watch. And watch. And watch.

First she puts it on the wrong foot. Then she puts it on the right foot. Then she takes it off that foot and for some unknown reason puts it back on the floor. She then does the same damn thing with the other shoe. You sit there patiently supporting her efforts saying “You can do it. That’s right…oh-oh try again” But inside you’re all,

“IT’S A SHOE! It’s Velcro for gods’ sake. This shouldn’t be this hard. Why are you doing this to daddy? Is it because I didn’t read that damn “Where oh Where is Huggle Buggle Bear” book a 3^rd time. IT’S A STUPID BOOK!”

And then after all her huffing and puffing she looks up at you smiling and says,

“I did it”

And it’s awesome. The pride she has is just amazing. Amazing!

“You did it” you reply and pick her up and swing her around. They two of you go out the door singing “You did it, you did it.” And it’s kind of okay…