baglady

I am taking a moment out of the whirlwind, that is my Friday mornings to write, to have a little coffee and to escape the hubbub for a moment. In about 15 minutes I will walk upstairs and all hell will break lose around me, as I attempt to move three people out of this house.

Max to school (where are your shoes, coat, lunch, homework???) no mater how much I try to get these things organized and near the door, there is always some struggle.

Freyja off to a play date with a preschool friend (put on your SHOES! SHOES! where are your socks? they were just here a moment ago!)

And finally my dear housemate. On Thursday and Friday I drive him to the university where he works, and no matter how early I wake him up, he is still slipping on his socks when we are sitting in the car fuming. He is dark to my light, he is perpetual tardiness to my perpetual earliness. After 19 years you would think I would be used to it.

On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday he walks my son to school. I never call to check up on them, I don't even want to know how late or how disorganized the two of them are together.
In his defense, I have not gotten any tardy slips from the office, so perhaps in my absence, they pull the resources of their considerable intelligences together and make it on time.