It never ceases to amaze and humor me when people who don't have children express disbelief and even annoyance that I sometimes run late for things.
I do. I find it absolutely laugh worthy that a person who can grab a coat and be ready to go anywhere a tank of gas will take them takes umbrage with my being ten minutes late, or, as was the case recently, actually express disdain that I have not been holding up my part of the friendship by visiting more often.
Those of you who have or have had small children know what I'm talking about, but some of you may not, so please allow me to describe the typical events of even the most standard of trips to someplace as simple as a grocery store. Know that I do not do this to complain or illicit pity, but in an effort to "clue in" those who may not fully understand just what leaving a house with children entails.
