While taking the boy to school this morning, a car pulled out in front of us which caused me to immediately press down on my breaks to keep from colliding with them, while simultaneously pressing down onto my car horn and shouting some nice obscenities at the other driver. “Why is your time so much more important than mine!” I shouted in the air at the other driver’s insistence to pull out without looking in both directions. The boy sat silent, fearing I would shout obscenities at him as well.
The boy is on his own timetable which can at times make our lives feel difficult. Take for example yesterday morning when he declared he wanted to be dropped off at school by 7:15 am. That could have been doable if perhaps if he hadn’t dropped his declaration at 6:55 am, smack dab in the middle of my morning Yoga workout. Glancing at the wall clock I replied, “Better start walking now…” knowing my workout wouldn’t be complete until long after 7 am. and on good days, with limited traffic and such, the trip to school is ten minutes long. Somehow, I was able to get him to school before 7:25 am which was felt like a victory in my book. “There is no one here yet,” The boy said with wonder before exiting my car. I then sped home, so I could get a quick shower before I had to be to work at 8:15 am.
When my alarm went off this morning, fearing he would want to get to school early again today, I decided to push my workout until the afternoon, giving us plenty of time this morning. Except when I broached him on the subject he replied, “Uh, not today, thanks”. and then went back to eating his breakfast. “Seriously? Why is your time more important than mine?” I asked annoyed at his unwillingness to move along quicker. “What? I’m eating breakfast” He replied. “So your breakfast time is more important than my overall time?” I asked, but waved off the answer not really wanting to know his reply.
As I drove down my street toward home this morning, having the right of way I continued forward until a car coming from the opposite direction decided he couldn’t wait for me to drive ten feet to pass him, decided to come into my lane forcing me to stop to avoid hitting him. Raising my hands in the air as he drove past I yelled once more, “Really? Why is your time so much more important than mine?” Before continuing forward to reach my driveway, ten feet away.