I mentioned this story a little while back.

We have dawdlers in our house. I firmly believe this is part of my sanctification: learning to endure people who cannot tell time. Evidently, dealing with me is their penance.

Anyway, whenever we have somewhere to go or something to do, you will find me yelling at children to hurry up. Stop dawdling! No more singing!

??

We have children who will sing bathroom songs instead of getting things done in there. I never thought I'd say that phrase either. That and don't lick your brother. There are so many things I've learned to say since having children.

Where were we?

Oh, yes. When the children were in school, the fellows up at the hangars would hear me each morning: Get in the car! Why aren't you in your seat? Get in the car! We are going to be late. What are you doing with that stick? Get in the car!

We think the guys who work near our house stay in line mostly because they are afraid of me.

So, one morning, we were getting ready to go, and I learned that Bill Cosby was right. Parents swallow their words.

Someone, who will remain nameless to protect the guilty, but who now has to wear a timer around his neck set for whatever span of time should be enough for the task at hand, was taking his sweet time getting downstairs. We're talking 20 minutes to wash his hands. I yelled upstairs:

"Get your ...pause... self downstairs this instant."

Rich looked at me and said, "I heard that."

And I answered, "But, he didn't."

Labels: Family, Humor