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Friday, February 20, 2009

La La La La Lateness

I'm an On Timer. I can't help it. I come from a long line of people who are required to be early for events. I mean, as in, arrive 15 minutes early and sit in your car until you can go in, kind of people. I detest being late. I was taught it's rude and it isn't nice to people to waste their time with your lateness.

I married a Later. He's a fly by the seat of your pants, scrambling around looking for keys, don't get in the shower until it's five minutes before you have to go, kind of guy.

Needless to say, we don't mesh well sometimes. Because I have to go with him to places (it's required when you're married, or so I've heard), by default, I'm late too. And I hate it.

It's the only thing in our marriage that drives me crazy and I'm helpless to change it. Well, it's not the only thing in our marriage that drives me crazy, but I'm really not going to go into all THAT here! (And I really don't complain about him to people, so this is a rare mood you've caught me in.)

Living with someone is hard. Meshing your styles is even harder. You see, when I'm late, it completely throws me off. I feel rushed and harried and frantic and I get anxious. Young One gets like this too, so he must be an On Timer.

Want a good example? (Even if you say no, I'm going to give it to you.) A couple of years back we flew to Wyoming to visit Yellowstone National Park. Overall it was a great trip. I remember hiking the trails, watching Old Faithful, and boarding the airplane without my husband. You see, he needed a caffeine fix and so, just minutes before boarding, he walked a few miles from our gate (you know how airports are) to get a mocha. The lovely airport people started calling the boarding procedure and no husband. Our row was called. No husband. Young One was crying, I was frantically calling D's cell phone. Nothing. At last call, I grabbed Young One and we got on the plane. I figured we'd leave anyway, too bad for him. Just before we got to the gate door, he arrived, coffee in hand and a sheepish grin on his face. It took me most of the first hour of the flight to get back to I'm on vacation relaxation phase.

That sort of thing doesn't bother him. "I made it, didn't I?" he said. Yep you did, but you gave me a heart attack and your son was in tears. Doesn't bother him.

We used to have a family like that in my hometown church. For you to completely understand the story, you have to understand that Lutherans don't sit in the front rows of the sanctuary. It's not in us to be out there like that. Ten minutes into our Sunday service, without fail, our notorious family would make their entrance. I lost count how many children they had, but let's just say it was around a dozen, all with Biblical names. Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, I don't think they had an Acts, but there was Elizabeth and Mary for sure, Leviticus and Genesis may have surfaced after I left town. There they were, all in their Sunday best, but somehow smelling like the barn that they had just finished their chores in. We were a farming community, this was commonplace. They marched in, interrupting whatever was taking place at that time, and headed for the only empty seats in the house, the front rows. As time went on, those rows were just theirs by default. Even if, by some miracle, they were on time, they still sat there.

Their lateness, although just fine in the eyes of God, didn't sit well in the eyes of the congregation. Looking back on it, it didn't bother me as much as the old ladies who worked in the kitchen and clucked their tongues at anything that they could. They weren't hurting anybody, but their lateness, well, it was an imposition. It interrupted our pastor, it interrupted our settling in to worship. As time went on, though, it was just expected, so the interruption was less jarring.

Maybe that's where I am now. The lateness has become such a part of D's character that I'm not surprised or as reactionary towards it. It still grates on me, but I've found ways around it. Like setting the clocks ahead. That works well unless he checks his computer or iPhone. I've taken to just walking out of the house and sitting in the car. That works fine, but usually results in him running back and forth from the house to the car because he's forgotten everything that he's supposed to bring along (Watch, keys, wallet, phone? All scattered throughout the house, another thing that drives me crazy. Set it down in one place always and you'll save yourself a heck of a lot of time and panic. Duh.)

I'm not perfect, I know. My On Timeness is annoying in it's own right, I'm very sure. So, what are you, an On Timer or a Later?

Late for Dinner Meatloaf
Meatloaf is very forgiving, even if you're not. It will hold in the oven until everyone is at the table. Serve with baked potatoes and sweet baby peas. The baking potatoes and meatloaf smell fantastic, be prepared for lots of, "Is dinner ready yet?" Serves 8 at 6 WW Points per serving.

1 tbsp Heinz Spicy Brown Mustard
3 tbsp Del Monte Ketchup
1/2 cup(s) Kraft Shredded Sharp Cheddar Cheese
3/4 cup(s) part-skim mozzarella cheese
2 tbsp dried parsley
1/4 tsp black pepper
1/2 cup(s) onion(s)
1/2 cup(s) dried bread crumbs
1 1/2 pound(s) cooked extra lean ground beef, 17% fat
1 tsp dried oregano
1 item(s) egg
1/4 tsp Italian seasoning

Preheat oven to 350. Mix first two ingredients and set aside. Mix all remaining ingredients. Press into a loaf pan and glaze with ketchup and mustard mixture. Bake for 1 1/2 hours or until it reaches a temperature of 170 degrees in the center.

1 comment:

  1. I am a right on time person. I'm NEVER early. But I TRY to get us all there right on time (OK maybe 5 minutes late :)


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