A faulty alarm clock proves ...
Our children are naturally slow at whatever they do. Eating, finishing up homework, getting ready to go out. However, yesterday, disaster struck - my morning alarm didn't sound and everyone overslept.
Nigel strolled into our room and woke me up asking, "Daddy, do we need to go to school today?" Outside, the birds were chirping and the sun's rays were streaming into the room. I spent 5 seconds trying to collect my thoughts and figure out what was going on. In my mind some of these words were scrolling by "world cup match, saturday mornings are relaxing, youth day, attend church" and basically nothing really clicked. That's when it I realised that no, this wasn't a holiday, this wasn't the weekend, this was a SCHOOL DAY! I glanced at the clock on the wall and it read 7:12 and I immediate had thoughts of surrender. MC (Medical Certificate) was my first reaction. Suddenly my feet sprang into action as it pulled the rest of my body out of bed to try to salvage the day. I woke Celest up and both of us scrambled (one of us hobbling on one leg) to try to live the impossible dream and get ready for school in record time.
I went to the kitchen with the intention of making Milo, but decided instead to pour milk to shave off three minutes of microwave, scooping and stirring. I looked up and saw Nigel walking out briskly in his school uniform! That was amazing, I thought to myself, he got ready without a single reminder and even took the initiative to brush his teeth.
The girls were a bit more difficult with Shannon asking "Why did you wake us up so late?" before trying to flop back down onto her pillow. I pulled her up again, like a rag doll and forced her to stand on her own, coaxing her legs to activate and provide some skeletal and muscular support. Amber asked herself rhetorically "why is it so bright?" as I dragged her outside to put on her uniform.
We managed to get out of the house at 7:25, with breakfast wrapped up in tissue for consumption in the high-speed vehicle we call a bullet-train-car. We got ready in about 13 minutes, which is probably standard for most, but a clear record for us. Amber, however forgot to brush teeth, which happens occasionally, even on normal alarm-functioning days, much to the dismay of her classmates.
All the kids were, as a result, booked by prefects, which has never happened before. Amber tried to breathe on one of them, but it didn't work. Nothing like thirteen minutes of excitement to jumpstart the day.
Nigel strolled into our room and woke me up asking, "Daddy, do we need to go to school today?" Outside, the birds were chirping and the sun's rays were streaming into the room. I spent 5 seconds trying to collect my thoughts and figure out what was going on. In my mind some of these words were scrolling by "world cup match, saturday mornings are relaxing, youth day, attend church" and basically nothing really clicked. That's when it I realised that no, this wasn't a holiday, this wasn't the weekend, this was a SCHOOL DAY! I glanced at the clock on the wall and it read 7:12 and I immediate had thoughts of surrender. MC (Medical Certificate) was my first reaction. Suddenly my feet sprang into action as it pulled the rest of my body out of bed to try to salvage the day. I woke Celest up and both of us scrambled (one of us hobbling on one leg) to try to live the impossible dream and get ready for school in record time.
I went to the kitchen with the intention of making Milo, but decided instead to pour milk to shave off three minutes of microwave, scooping and stirring. I looked up and saw Nigel walking out briskly in his school uniform! That was amazing, I thought to myself, he got ready without a single reminder and even took the initiative to brush his teeth.
The girls were a bit more difficult with Shannon asking "Why did you wake us up so late?" before trying to flop back down onto her pillow. I pulled her up again, like a rag doll and forced her to stand on her own, coaxing her legs to activate and provide some skeletal and muscular support. Amber asked herself rhetorically "why is it so bright?" as I dragged her outside to put on her uniform.
We managed to get out of the house at 7:25, with breakfast wrapped up in tissue for consumption in the high-speed vehicle we call a bullet-train-car. We got ready in about 13 minutes, which is probably standard for most, but a clear record for us. Amber, however forgot to brush teeth, which happens occasionally, even on normal alarm-functioning days, much to the dismay of her classmates.
All the kids were, as a result, booked by prefects, which has never happened before. Amber tried to breathe on one of them, but it didn't work. Nothing like thirteen minutes of excitement to jumpstart the day.