GET OUT!

Most days Maggie goes to work at 8:00 am. The kids don’t have to be at school until 9:00, however, and having little faith in the ability of four 9 to 12-year-old kids to get out the door on time on their own, I wait until they’ve gone before I leave for work. Truth be told, I watch them go, spend a few minutes checking for forgotten lunches, instruments or homework, wait a few more minutes to see if anyone comes sprinting back for a forgotten item, then chase them down in the car with whatever it is before heading to work. I could let you believe that I’m mother-of-the-year, magnanimously attending to the needs of the Crandler urchins as they set out for a day at school, but who am I kidding? You’d never believe that.

The truth is, when Maggie leaves for work, I take my coffee and go downstairs. I get dressed, dry my hair, make my bed and generally ignore the kids and any needs they might have. Sure, I could remind them to keep an eye the time. I could call out periodically how many minutes they have before they need to leave. But where would be the sport in that? That would completely ruin the fun of standing at the front door, bellowing, “GET OUT!” at the top of my lungs and watching them scurry about furiously, putting on coats, gathering their things, periodically shouting, “Oh crap!” to no one in particular and sometimes even knocking each other down in the process. Honestly, it never gets old.  

Those bumbling kids start my day off with a giggle every time, albeit at their expense, but it could be argued that I'm teaching them a valuable lesson in time management. That's it! That's just what I'm doing (at least that's the story I'm sticking with). Maybe I'm mother-of-the-year after all.