|My son and I love our Converse.|
Do they help us walk faster?
I suppose one of the reasons I always kick up the pace is that I'm married to a man who towers a full twelves inches above me. We've been together since high school (which was... *cough*... a lot of years ago). I never wanted to ask anyone to slow down for me, literally or metaphorically, so I just sped up.
To be fair, there's another reason why I walk so fast. You see, I am almost pathologically incapable of being late. This caused me no small amount of stress during my formative years. My own family was always on time for everything (if "on time" = "10 minutes early"). The community in which I grew up, though, laughing referred to their time zone as "AG time". You can read "AG time" as "no more than 30 minutes late". Oh yeah, that was fun.
Here's the typical scenario in my mind:
Okay, brain. That trip will take about 30 minutes by car. Let's factor in at least 15 minutes in case there is traffic.
Oh, wait, what if I miss a turn? Yes, let's factor in another 15 minutes to account for that possibility.
It's 90 minutes before I need to be there? Must be time to hop in the car since I am already dressed and ready to go.
Heck, how did I get here an hour early? Good thing I have a comfy car and a book!
It's a family joke. My husband tries to hold me off for at least a little bit. Then he just shrugs, grabs his own book, and heads to the car. My sons tease me about "mom leaving time".
It's okay. I know I'm always early. Just do me a favor and promise not to be more than fifteen minutes late?
In return, I promise to never knock on your door too early. I'll just park the car around the corner and read until it's time to be there.
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