A couple days ago, I wrote a piece called A Tale as Old as Time or Breakfast with My Boys or Life With Toddlers or I Could Have Predicted This. Today’s piece is a variation on that piece, and thus, A Tale as Old as Time 2. It is written in third person to protect the innocent (or…not so innocent, but…indignant. Chagrined).
A Tale As Old As Time 2 or Predictable Patterns in My Life or Why Do I Do This to Myself or You Would Think I’d Have Learned By Now
It began last night. She finished her school work. She wrote and posted her writing and did her reading and commenting. It was getting a little late, but really she had earned that snack. So she had it.
On her way to begin her bedtime routine, the littlest boy cried out for her, so she went to comfort him. The boy now comforted and asleep, she resumed the nighttime routine already made later. Maybe just a few minutes of scrolling before the evening shower? Yes, just a few. Maybe more. Okay, more.
It was well past bedtime by then, but the house was quiet, and she, ever the night owl, had the usual evening burst of energy despite the underlying exhaustion. Maybe she would fold a few items of laundry, or… okay, one basket. When else would it get done?
And then, sleep. Well, almost. Lying in bed, but first, just a few pages of the book. She’d been looking forward to it all day. And surely, it would help her relax, right? Maybe even sleep better than if she didn’t? Yes, she’d really better read a few pages. Well… it’s a good part, so maybe a chapter? But…what happens next? Okay, just a few more
Yikes, it was late. How did it suddenly get so late?, she wondered. Lights off. Oops! Don’t forget the alarm. She’d better set it a few minutes earlier than the previous morning, so she wouldn’t be late again.
A middle of the night wake-up. The bigger of the boys needed something; then she was back to sleep.
Before she knew it – the morning alarm. Oof. That had come earlier than she would have liked. The snooze button, just once. It was okay, she accounted for it when she set the alarm last night. And then… well, just once more would be okay. She’d just get ready a little faster, it would be fine.
Except, now tired, and feeling a bit rushed, the usual morning anxiety was creeping in. Why did work have to start so early? How did a night owl choose a job designed for an early bird? Really, it was a biological conflict.
And of course… the littlest boy, being of that Particular Age, did not simply just “get ready faster.” No, he didn’t see why his mommy was trying to rush him. It just made him Mad. And the mommy was just going to have to carry him around to compensate. It wasn’t his fault.
And now… well… how did this happen? Running late… again? But – she had set the alarm a few minutes earlier!
When she got up yesterday, exhausted before the day began, she had decided she would go to bed earlier to make up for it! And now… okay well now it’s happened again. Arghhh.
She took a deep breath.
She’d just have to go to bed a little earlier tonight, and get up a little earlier tomorrow.
It’s not like this would happen again.
This Slice is part of the March Slice of Life Writing Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers. It may or may not have been posted after 10pm on a school night.