The Frustration Never Ends

I have never understood the joke about women always being late. It has never been that way in this house. Raymond was always the one that was running late. I was always the one ready thirty minutes ahead of time. Even when we were young, and newly married. I was always frustrated by the fact that I would be ready to leave on time and he would be running around getting ready at the very last minute.

Yesterday that frustration hit me all over again.

We had a memorial service to go to at the Church. The boys were both reading at the service, and acting as greeters. We were supposed to be at the Church by 10:30 a.m. I told both boys to be ready to leave at that time. Since the oldest does not live here, I told him to be here, dressed nicely, and ready to go over his readings by 10:00 a.m.

The youngest got up on time, had breakfast and took his shower. He was ready to go by 10:00. I took my shower and was drying my hair when the oldest arrived. I went out to greet him and he is in good pants, a nice short sleeved shirt (not appropriate) and tennis shoes. He knows he left his good long-sleeved shirt here the week before and his dress shoes are here some where. He cannot remember but thinks the youngest is wearing his shirt (my hair is still not dry). I start looking frantically around for another long sleeved shirt. Decide there is not another shirt, tell the youngest to take his shirt off, replace it with his orchestra dress shirt, and give the other one to his brother. Just as I finish saying all of that I spot a shirt on the oldest's bedroom floor. What is that? Oh, it is the long sleeved shirt he was looking for (black not blue like he thought). It is clean, but has fallen off the couch and onto the floor sometime since he threw it there on its hanger. (TWO closets in that room!). The shirt is thrown into the dryer to de-wrinkle, as I run towards the bathroom to finish getting ready.

Oldest comes in and asks if his shoes are okay. NO, they are size 12 tennis shoes! Where are his good ones? Ah, he says in his brother's closet. NO, they are not we discover. I scream find your shoes, slam the bathroom door, and start venting in my head about why did he have to have inherited everything from his father.

I run into the bedroom to get dressed (10:25 now, but that is okay we are two minutes from the church). I come out and he is all ready except his tie. That is okay, I saw one in his brother's closet. I grab it and start to put it on him and it is way too short, must have been from when they were younger. Ah, he says, there is one in his garment bag. He gets it. It is perfect, even tied already. He slips it over his head and the tie knot is halfway down his chest, and tied so tight it will never move again. I am stressed as it is now 10:30. I cannot get the knot out. Finally, I get a break and am able to get it untied and tied again. We are ready!

I tell them all to go get in the van while I grab the keys. I get outside and there is the youngest rolling up his sleeves. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING??"

The chicken wire over the turtle pond has caved in. He is afraid the turtles will escape, he must fix it. I scream "NOT NOW!" I then calm myself to tell him that it looked like something jumped onto the wire during the night and if the turtles were going to escape, then they would have done so already.

We are in the car. We are at the church. We are only about 8 minutes late. The boys get into position. I check last minute details. The service is beautiful. All is well. We finish up putting the sanctuary back in order and head home.

We are home. I did not stroke out, and no one would have ever known how frantic the morning turned out. I am walking up the ramp to the door and I see something out of the corner of my eye, it is Winnie Hall, our biggest red-eared slider. She has escaped and is on her way to the swimming pool. "GRAB HER!" I shouted. My youngest runs to get her. He picks her up. I scream - "Don't let her go on your new shoes!"

I go in the house. I cannot take any more excitement.

It was just like old times with Raymond. The frustration of getting everyone some where on time wore me out. At least we got the turtle before she got away.