Or: Hindsight is 20/20. And less grumpy.
5:00 a.m. G leaves for the airport for a business trip. Bye, babe.
5:22 a.m. I am the early seminary driver. I have had less than three hours of sleep due to very fun visitors. I don't do early mornings very well. Drag myself up for the 5:35 departure time.
5:30 a.m. I remind daughter (who is eating breakfast) that we have to leave soon to pick up E. and drive the 20 minutes to the church. Forget to use "good morning, Mary Sunshine, voice"
5:35 a.m. I wait in the car, watching through the windows while the daughter dashes upstairs to find something, then down, then to the kitchen, then back to the upstairs. My pet peevery feelings activate, with the assistance of early morning grumpiness.
5:41 a.m. Daughter comes out, juggling folders, toast, glass of water, cell phone. No backpack. Daughter dashes back in to find backpack.
5:47 a.m. Finally we leave the house. My grumpiness breaks the dam and I gush a flash flood/ loud lecture on the benefits of advanced planning, being on time, courtesy, adding a flourish by throwing many other items into my dawn discourse. Daughter sits, silently picking at her toast. I go on far too long. And I don't feel any better afterwards, incidentally.
5:53 a.m. Pick up E.
6:10 a.m. I drop off the girls at church and drive home feeling ashamed of my tirade. Think of how awesome it is that a 16-y-o girl wakes herself up at 4:45 in the morning and goes to daily early morning religious instruction not only willingly but with eagerness. I deflated that over a 10 minute delay? Sheesh.
Can I have a do-over?
{Well, yes I can. Every morning this week.}
