I hate being late. I mean really, really, really hate being late. I grew up in a family where being on time meant being at least five minutes early. Being late was completely unacceptable. It was something that neither of my parents could tolerate. I also have a brother that is completely incapable of being on time.
This problem caused constant friction in my family. When I was in Junior High, my dad would take all three of us kids to the mall on Friday nights. The same drama would play out every week. My dad would tell us what time to meet. Five minutes before that time, my sister and I would show up. Five minutes after that time, my father was complaining about how my brother was always late and would say that he was going to just leave him at the mall. Not being there, my brother never suffered for this, but every week, I took my dad's threat seriously and got upset at my dad for threatening to leave him.
Let's just say that this didn't help me develop a normal respect for being on time. It's much more a pathological obsession with being on time.
In fact, the compulsion to be "on time" extends until now when I actually work at a job where it doesn't matter if I come in at 6:00 am or 8:00 am, as long as I work my full shift and cover all of my meetings. However, because I have an idea of what time I want to get to work, I MUST get to work by that time.
As anyone knows, having children does nothing to assist one in getting anywhere on time, ever. Kids drag their feet, lose things, cry, scream, and do things like wipe boogers on your clean silk shirt as you are walking out the door. If you have a kid like Michael, that adds things like his desire to have in depth discussions on why I should carry his backpack or why he doesn't need a jacket when it is freezing out. I swear, that child could figure out how to stall a heard of stampeding buffalo.
I discovered a very simple solution to this problem when Michael started daycare when he was almost four. His daycare didn't open until 6:30, so we needed to leave the house between 6:25 and 6:30. Nick Jr showed Wow Wow Wubzy from 6:00 to 6:25. Every show ends with a song, and then goes into the credits. I started a routine that involved getting Michael feed and dressed during the show, and then when the final song came on, we would get up and dance. From dancing, I'd turn off the TV and head out the door. After a few weeks of that, the routine became so ingrained, that Michael rarely questioned the process. We would simply get up and dance, then head out the door.
Guess what? On March 1st Nick Jr. changed their lineup. When I turned the TV on, I was greeted by Dora screeching at Boots. Two years of routine shot to hell. I was left with a choice; give up a well timed routine or suffer through the torture of the shrill Dora and that God Forsaken Map song every morning.
I won't tell you what I've chosen, but my nearly pathological obsession with being on time played a big role in my decision.
P.S. Does anyone know how to get that stupid map song out of one's head?