It is 8am and here I sit ready to take Alex to basketball camp. I got him up at 7, he showered and ate breakfast. We talked about what drink to get him *just in case* they are allowed to have them. We talked about what we were doing the rest of the day. We even talked about what book I was going to take with me to read while he was there.
As I was in the shower it (finally) dawned on me that today is Sunday... not Monday.
One of the things I have been working on is trying not to be late to everything. I was never late before, and then I married Marty, who brought the our last name curse with him. His family is notoriously 15-20 minutes late (sometimes more) and no one seems to care. The last time we were in Ohio we were invited to a BBQ/Birthday party at his uncle's house. I pulled in at 5 minutes till the time the party was supposed to start... and pulled in right behind his uncle who was just returning from the store. The next person to arrive was 30 minutes later.
I am so afraid of being late to things that this is the result. I hope you are happy, our last name curse!
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