On punctuality

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@DaddyEvil was just talking about how much he hates being late, which prompted me to write this. I also hate being late, but I don’t like being too early either as I hate waiting about. So if we are all to go to something together, like a film or play with a set start time, then my ideal is to be a few minutes early. Being late means disturbing others to get to your seats, which is horrible. But being early just means standing about, especially since my partner gave up alcohol so we can’t even go for a drink at the bar as he refuses to pay a few pounds for a cup of tea or soft drink (even if I offer to buy it for him!) Going away for a weekend or holiday is a real ordeal as we are always late setting out. My partner will decide a suitable time to leave, which he always explains in a backwards sort of way i.e. ‘We need to have left by 6:30’ so everyone gets that in their heads as the target time (whereas in reality of course if we are leaving at 6:30 we are in fact already late) and then of course they forget a few things etc. while my partner stands by the door making frustrated noises. He tries to help by packing other people’s things for them, but he doesn’t say so, so I’ve wasted lots of time looking for my coat, umbrella, suncream, water bottle or whatever only to be told ‘Oh yes I packed those for everyone’. When I complained he then made a point of packing everyone else’s except mine – but then pointedly telling me that he hadn’t packed mine. So if he could tell me when he hadn’t packed it, why couldn’t he tell me when he had packed it?? Then after all this we’ll all be in the car and then he’ll suddenly ask himself ‘Did I really lock the door/close the windows/turn off the oven?’ and he’ll have to go back and check. Consequently it’s always around an hour and a half after our target leaving time before we actually drive away. Little One takes after her father. She will pack for a trip away a day or two in advance, and then keep telling everyone it’s time to leave until the last minute when she’ll suddenly realise she’s forgotten some essentials. Big One takes an age to get ready, and she’s such a perfectionist she’ll still be painstakingly folding her clothes 'just so' even when we’ve all got our things in the car and are just waiting for her. And then I’m the one who always remembers the last-minute jobs that need doing or the things we really ought to take that we’ve forgotten (or that I can’t find because my partner already thought of those and packed them, but didn’t tell anyone). So I generally get the blame for making us late. And yet… one evening we were all going to a pantomime and since I had arranged it, I knew what time it started. But I lied and told the others it started half an hour earlier. And guess what? We all arrived in comfortable time. So I’m convinced that the lateness is not my fault! All rights reserved. © Text and image copyright Fleur 2022.