Wishing in a well
There are times that I wish for more hours in a day, but I know what I'm really wishing for is more time to waste.
Hurry up and wait.
A minute here becomes an hour there.
Where does all the time go?
Our best days are when there's no time to dawdle. Things get done:
"It's 7:30 ... the bus will be here in a half-hour. Get up get upgetup!"
Lunch, made; bags, packed; shoes, tied; hair, brushed.
It can also be the worst days:
"Why are you watching TV? Where are your shoes? Get your shoes on get your shoes on getyourshoeson!"
"Shoelaces trailing, hair tangled, you can buy lunch and bring back the library book tomorrow."
Thinking ahead is what you do instead of stopping to take a breath.
Maybe it's inevitable ... your temper will get the better of you. You'll utter old threats and make new rules. Neither of which you'll follow.
But instead of acknowledging that missing a bus isn't the worst thing to happen on a Wednesday morning, you watch a tear-stained child climb up its steps, ruining her day and yours.
All you can do is wait, and hope to redeem yourself when the bus brings her home.