What Time Is It?

Spoken into answering machine “Hello, if that’s you, pick up.” — pause — “Listen, camp ended like 3 or 4 hours ago and I want to be picked up.”

muffled voice in background

“Oh — like 45 minutes ago — so come get me.”

I swear that its like I am the only person in my house who can tell time.

ME: “Wednesday’s football game is at 4 p.m., and we need to see Dr. Brown at 4:45.”

WHAT IS GOING ON? It’s just logistics. And that is what it seems like I do all the time. And all by myself.

KID: “Got points off my report cuz’ I didn’t print it out.”
PARENT: “Hunh?”
KID: “The printer didn’t work.”
PARENT: “Didn’t you ask about the cartridge?”
KID: “Yeah, but I couldn’t find it.”
PARENT TO SELF: “…and you couldn’t figure out what to do next. You just listened to somemore I-Tunes and went to bed? Sheesh!”

I fail on my logistical endeavors, but at least I know that I am late.

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