Me & The White Rabbit

When I was a kid my family was late to everything. No, seriously, everything. If you put a time on it we would show up a minimum of 15 minutes after that time. You could set your watch by it.

The classic story about our collective lateness happened the year we lived in the UK. It was back before the internet and email and before there was even cable TV. The fact that daylight savings time would happen on a different day there than at home was somehow not drilled into our consciousness. By this point in the year I had already gained a reputation for being late to school all the time. The Brits weren't shy about teasing me about it either. Better that, I suppose, than the fact that I was woefully behind my peers academically and math time made me, even at 6-years-old, consider faking a seizure.

So, we didn't realize that it was daylight savings day (or, really, the day after that since it was a school day) and my parents hustled me off to school. My dad was around so he must have been on some sort of school break himself. It was the one day of the whole year so far we were on time. Not only were we on time but we were early. It was record breaking and we were all intensely proud of ourselves. We arrived at the school building and the joint was practically silent. Some nervous exploration dug up a cleaning lady who explained the whole time change thing to us in very short, declarative sentences just in case we were as stupid as we looked. She then, with the kindest of intent I'm sure, offered to let me sit in the broom closet until other responsible adults arrive and she could turn me over to them. My parents, bless them, declined.

In some fit of optimism we, as a group, still felt we were in a place of triumph. We were early, so early in fact that we could not help being early, or at least on time, an hour hence. Since we were all washed and dressed and prepped we trooped home for a celebratory breakfast before returning to school...late.
I can still remember the wryly amused look on the student teacher's face as she knelt to help me with something later that day and whispered, "So, I hear you were early to school this morning." I still hate her a little bit for that.

This morning I set my alarm a little later because the dog has injured his leg so we will not be going to the park for a while. I calculated it so that I could sleep in a bit, take him on his truncated walk, write a warning email to the dog walker about the limping and sadness, and still get out of the house on time if not early.

Anyone want to guess how late I was to work?