Influence of being late

11:13 AM

I hate being late.

I hate it.

My mom was always late and I hated it. She would be late picking us up from school. Or taking us to the doctor or dentist. She would make us late for school. We were always late.

Of course as a kid I didn't realize how many things a mom has to do with four kids and a husband that was rarely home. All I cared about was being on time.

While I wasn't married I was always on time. Preferably early. Always.

Enter my Spanish husband. He is always late. He hates being early. What's the point of waiting around, he asks. Fine, but you end up making others wait for you, I say.

Most of our fights are about him being late or making us late. Now that we are married I seem to not only NOT have had an influence on him, but he has rubbed off on ME! Some examples:

I almost missed my flight going home from Spain once. Caught the plane but missed out on a deal to take a later flight and get $200 cash. If I had been single I would have been $200 richer that day.

I was late for our wedding. The chauffeur took the wrong left. Not my fault entirely but no matter how many times I told what happened everyone only remembered that I was late.

Two years ago when we met up with a new friend of mine for the FIRST time we arrived exactly one hour late. Thankfully they were forgiving and still wanted to be friends.

For Chatterbox's hearing test we arrived so late that they wanted to make us reschedule. Principe sweet talked them into doing at least one test. Which came out fine and we chalked it up to her hearing just as good as everyone else. But we still got a tongue lashing from the technician.

This year Queenie has received three tardy slips already which, since she is six, are really for us parents. We signed the notes, our heads hanging in shame.

A few weeks ago we decided to meet up with some friends to go to the Foie market, choose foies and then go make some foie gras together. When we showed up we were so late they were ready to go home already. To speed things up they chose our foies for us....

Just last week we showed up so late to Speech that the therapist had gone home. Oops. Lots of apologizing happened the next appointment.

I was late delivering Queenie. I can't find a good reason to blame Principe for that one, but I am still trying.

I have a feeling that this is only going to get worse with age.....


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