“If you’re not early you’re late” I used to find myself shouting across at my employees as they clocked in at 2 minutes to their shift start time. I was always on time… to everything. I was the type of person who when presented with two options, get there an hour early or get there 1 minute late, I would choose the prior. I had no sympathy for anyone who couldn’t make it to a place on time and nothing was more unacceptable to me than someone who was always late. I’m guessing none of the employees that I used that mantra on had kids, as none of them punched me in the face, and I don’t think I’m too
Then I was late… 9.5 months later and I would never be on time again.
Feeling a bit smug, I take him upstairs and decide to change his nappy, knowing we’ll now be on time. He’s not done it for ages, so obviously now was a good time, the second the nappy came off, the fountain was stitched on… all over me, the clothes he was wearing as well as the jumper I had hung up ready. And obviously, no wipes to hand. A wooden spoon to distract him, a few muslins and quick clothes change later and we rush down the stairs and pop him in his pram. I throw on the nearest hat I can find, which happens to be too small and It was at this point I realised he was still clinging on to the wooden spoon, some battles aren’t worth fighting. I’m rushing down to the clinic, I know it’s usually a 20-minute walk, and it’s 13.45, 15 minutes to the appointment, my pace quickens thinking about all the times I’ve sat waiting for late people, thinking about all the times I’ve now been that late person. I arrive at the clinic, look up the clock…
This was a rare occasion, I certainly don’t take pride in saying it, but I’m now a late person… I’m now that friend you have to tell to be 30 minutes earlier just to get them there on time. Bye bye early Leah, see you in 18 years.
“Then I was late.
And 9 and a half
months later, I would
never be on time