Better Late Than Never

By .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)
Wednesday - January 25, 2012

E-mail this story | Print this page | Comments (0) | Archive | RSS

| Share

Del.icio.us

During the school and work week at the Nagasawa house, our day begins at 4:15 a.m. I sleep with my iPhone next to our bed. Although it is charging, I have my phone alarm set to wake us up at that God-forsaken time. We get up that early as my wife has to ready our 14-year-old daughter in time to catch her private school bus.

My wife does more before 6 a.m. than I can do over a long weekend. She’ll wash her hair, feed Buddy our dog, make our daughter’s breakfast and lunch, prepare our daughter’s school uniform and cheerleading outfit. She also cleans the kitchen, does some laundry and even gets in a few minutes of watching QVC.

Well, the other morning I failed to set my phone alarm. My phone went off, but it was our daughter calling from her room. Still half asleep, I answered, “What is it, honey?” She yelled, “Dad, it’s 6 o’clock, I missed the bus!” I turned to notify my wife, but she was clinging to the bedroom ceiling. She declared the Nagasawa household to be at DEFCON 1. Suddenly clothes, food and Buddy were flying all over. I was in a tornado of madness.

I would have to take our daughter to school before I headed in to work. With full-fledged traffic back in force, both my girls were urging me to get moving. I have a morning ritual, and this situation turned my whole world upside down. It was going to set the tone for my entire day. And I don’t know how she did it, but my wife had our daughter ready to head out the door in about the same time it took me to shave.

It didn’t help that Buddy grabbed my socks and I had to chase him around the house. My wife told me to quit fooling around. Although disheveled, I grabbed my car keys and made for the door like Angry Birds.

It was only then that my wife suddenly realized that it was Martin Luther King Jr. day, a day off for both her and our daughter. Not wanting to waste a perfectly good make-ready, I headed off to work. I kissed both my girls goodbye and asked what they were going to do. Without hesitation, my wife said, “We’re going back to bed. It’s a holiday.”