I hate being late. I really really hate running late. I remember when I was a little kid and mum was always running late, and I could never understand it. Everywhere we went, mum would greet the person "sorry we're late!" And she still runs late too btw, we always tell her we need her somewhere at least 15 minutes before she actually is needed in the hope she will be there on time.
Anyway, so I've grown up with not wanting to be like her - and it turns out I am like her. But, I swear, its not my fault, its my children and the universe conspiring against me.
The other day I was running late for picking Sparrow up from school. I had picked up my stuff and ready to get in the car on time but of course - Speedy had done a poo and needed to be changed. So I changed her quickly and shoved her and Coo into the car in record time. Then, I had to wake The Baby and surprise surprise - she had done a poo too! So another nappy change, and we're out the door, 5 minutes late.
Then one other day I went to visit my friend. Had my plan in mind, go drop off Sparrow at school, pick up a doll toy from a person in the same suburb, go back home drop off Elf Man and then I'll be up at my friend's house by 10am. Of course, as the universe would have it, Elf Man didn't have the money to give the person, so a side trip to a servo to get petrol as well as extra money, and then back home to drop him off added an extra 15 minutes onto my trip.
And then of course - a family of ducks crossing my street also held me up. Seriously - ducks. Like what the hell universe!! I'm trying not to be my mother and you're making it practically impossible to NOT be like her!!!
So there it is - my name is Mel and I'm a late-aholic. Of course its not my fault, its the children.