Isn’t It Funny How The Time Goes?

It’s a two-hour delay today, thanks to icy road conditions.

Dylan, who is awake with me at 6:30 when we learn of the delay, is concerned only with his algebra exam.  If they change the schedule, will he have to take the test earlier in the week?  He wants the extra time to study with his tutor.

I assure him, then reassure him, that they won’t change the exam schedule for today.  I tell him sleep is the most important thing, and just to rest now, not to worry.

Then I spend two hours trying to sleep, worrying about the exam schedule.

When I get out of the shower, the boys are both awake and playing with Pokemon cards.  But they are not ready for school.  Dylan is in pajamas and obviously hasn’t even considered brushing his teeth yet.

“Dylan, your bus will be here in 20 minutes.”

“What?  Already?” he stammers.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Bye, Shane,” he says, sprinting from Shane’s bedroom and leaving a terrible mess that Shane doesn’t even see.

Shane is in his underwear with a shirt on, digging around for pants.  He must have heard me coming.

“Good morning, Shane!” I say jovially, since Shane is almost dressed and he still has 2 1/2 hours before school starts.

I go downstairs and make Dylan’s breakfast.  I let the dog out.  I let the dog in, and dry her feet.  I make peanut butter sandwiches and pack up lunchboxes.  I check my email.  I wait.

Dylan thunders downstairs ready to eat an omelet, whole-grain toast and a green banana with only six minutes left.

Luckily, he inhales it all in four.

Dylan takes his pills.  He’s still successfully taking Strattera, if you can call B’s (instead of A’s) and D’s (instead of F’s) a “success.”

“Can you drive me to the bus stop?”

“Sure.”  It is icy rain, after all.

I toss a bowl of cereal on the table for Shane.

“I’ll be right back,” I yell to Shane.  We get to the bus stop 42 seconds before the bus arrives.  I turn around and drive the 500 yards back to our house.

It is 9:30 in the morning.  It feels like 7 a.m.

Shane and I spend almost two hours playing with Little People, reading books and doing magic tricks.

We talk about the show we’re going to see tonight.  The kids got tickets in their stockings for Christmas.  Shane is excited to go, as we all are.

“Remember when we got our tickets,” he says, “and we thought it was such a long wait until January 10th?”

“I remember,” I say.

“But now it’s here and tonight we’re going to the show and it was, like, so fast!” Shane says.  “And in two years it will be like, wow, that show was a long time ago!”

I laugh.  “That’s probably true,” I say, not wanting to recognize that, in two years, Shane will be facing middle school persecution and Dylan will be looking at colleges.

When it’s time to go to school, we can’t believe how fast the time went.  We manage to be almost late, like always.  He jumps out of the car into the rain.

For some reason, watching him trot up the sidewalk, backpack bouncing, saddens me … just a little bit more than usual.

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