I hate running late in the mornings. I especially hate it when we're running late because my children are in s.l.o.w. m.o.t.i.o.n. I'd like to say this happens once in a blue moon, but sadly, it's at least once a week, if not more that we're rushing to get to the car, just to make it to school before the tardy bell rings.
This morning was one of those mornings. I came into the kitchen to find B (fully dressed. Yay!) laying on the family room floor reading a book, M lounging on the couch with her shoes sitting next to her and L wandering around holding a cat toy and looking for Psycho Kitty.
"I'm happy to see that you're dressed, B," I acknowledged. "Did you eat breakfast? Did you get L breakfast? Did you unload the dishwasher?"
"Grumble, grumble. It's such a good book! Grumble, grumble," was her reply as she picked herself up and moseyed into the kitchen to pour 2 bowls of cereal.
"M! Are you planning on going to school shoeless today?," I asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
"No, Mommy," she said, as she put on her second shoe and then proceeded to lay on the couch.
"Did you put the wet clothes into the dryer and the dirty clothes into the washer? Did you eat breakfast?"
"*Gasp!* No! I didn't!," she exclaimed and got up to do so.
"L, did you eat breakfast yet?," I asked the child who was still on her search for Psycho Kitty.
"No. Because no one got it for me, yet!," she answered, dangling the cat toy in front of herself. Perhaps she wasn't looking for Psycho Kitty, and was just entertaining herself.
"Well, let's get to it, people!"
The three of them were like sloths! They ate slow, B and M never managed to finish their chores and when I pointed out to B that she was moving like a sloth, her response was, "I hate this chore!!" She did confirm that she does indeed like getting an allowance, so hatred or not, she must do it.
We got out the door about 10 minutes later than we usually do and I could feel the annoyance brewing inside. That is never a good thing, because stress and annoyance are my 2 biggest triggers for yelling.
"OK, girls. We cannot be sloths during the week," I said after I got myself into the car. "We can be sloths on the weekends. In fact, if you want, we can have Slothenly Saturdays, where you can move as S-L-O-W A-S Y-O-U W-A-N-T [said in my best slow motion voice]."
"Yes!," cried M. "We can be slow! Well, except for getting to the TV. I'm going to race to the TV and then plant myself there all day."
"Well, I don't know about that," I replied. "But, during the week we have to be like the Roadrunner. Do you know who he is?"
"Wait," interjected B. "We can be like a coyote. Coyotes are faster than roadrunners."
"Um, not in Looney Toons, he's not. The Roadrunner is the fastest. That's who I'm talking about."
"So, what you're saying is you want us to move 8mph instead of 10mph? Because a coyote runs 10mph and roadrunners only run 8mph," she pressed on.
"B! I am not talking about real roadrunners! I am talking about the Looney Toons one, in which he is the fastest! I want you guys to be like the Roadrunner! From Looney Toons, I mean."
I was driving so I can't be certain, but I'm fairly sure B rolled her eyes at me.
After they got out of my car ("Move it! Move it! Be the Roadrunner, not a sloth! Go! Go!! Go!!!"), I had to laugh at the whole exchange I had with B. I absolutely love the fact that she has so much knowledge about things most people, myself included, don't (I mean really? Who knows how fast roadrunners and coyotes run? Where did she even learn this?).
I was so thrilled that I managed to turn my stress into something fun for them, but someone is going to have to remind me come Saturday that I have given them permission to move as slow as they want (except to get to the TV). I'm sure when I tell them to hurry up, M will be right there to remind me that it's Slothenly Saturday and thus we can be sloths all day. That might not be such a bad idea after all.
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