Ordinary Days By Lauren Denton: 5 minutes late

We’re big fans of the band The Lumineers in our house, and one of my favorite lines in their songs says, to effect, “When I die I’ll be on time.” The line always makes me laugh a little because I’m not even sure I’ll be on time for that. 

Matt and I celebrated 18 years of marriage last month, a fact made more impressive when you take into consideration that I’ve made him late to probably 85% of the events (and I use the term loosely) that we’ve attended together. And it’s not only him — my clock just generally runs anywhere from three to ten minutes behind everyone else’s.

Meeting friends for lunch at 12? I’m probably texting at 11:58 saying I’m on my way. Hair appointment, Girl Scout meeting or gathering with people to walk? I’m probably running in with my hair on fire, four minutes behind schedule. 

And church—that’s a big one for us. Most Sundays, Matt (along with Kate) is sitting in the car, engine running, waiting for me while I quickly smear a little cream cheese on a bagel to eat in the car as we drive. Without fail, no matter how hard I try, we end up walking into Sunday school a couple minutes after it starts. 

(A small caveat here in my defense: Sunday morning usually sees me straightening or otherwise “doing” another head or two of hair — and my own, if I’m lucky — and often searching for an article or two of someone else’s clothing while I’m simultaneously trying to brush my own teeth and find my own shoes. Needless to say, it’s easy to be on time when you only have yourself to get ready — though I’m sometimes late then, too.)

I understand it’s a respect thing. I remind myself of that all the time. Being late when you’re meeting someone else disrespects their time and their schedule. I wish I weren’t a chronically late person, and believe me, I have tried to change. I’ve used a whole arsenal of tactics. At one point, all the clocks in our den and kitchen were set three minutes ahead. (I changed them back, but the clock in my car is still three minutes ahead, though surely it’s clear by now that it doesn’t help.) I try to mentally add 15 minutes into every schedule I plan. I try to start my “process,” as Matt calls it, earlier than I think I need to, to give myself a cushion of time. But something always trips me up.

In most ways, my oldest daughter Kate is just like me, but when it comes to the life skill of promptness, she’s all Matt. On school mornings, she likes to leave the house at exactly 7:33, and despite my best efforts, that’s just not something I can commit to. Matt, though? It’s a challenge he rises to meet every day. And both of them are usually ready a couple minutes before then. They are punctual superstars. Sela, on the other hand? She’s more my speed when it comes to punctuality. Three minutes until we need to walk out the door? According to Sela, that’s plenty of time to grab the markers or scissors and tape and do a quick craft project before we leave — just like I think three minutes is plenty of time to start a load of laundry, let the dog out to potty and maybe wipe off the kitchen counters, too. 

But there was this one time. It was beautiful. Sela had Bible club at 7:15 before school, and we were picking up a friend at 7:00 on the way, a perfect combination for lateness for the two slow people in the house. But we picked up our friend at 7 on the dot and made it to Bible club … early! And not just early, we were the first ones there! It was such a strange situation to find myself in, I sat in the car and scoured my email to make sure I didn’t have the wrong day, which would have been a much more likely explanation than that we were just early. But then we saw another car of girls pull up and the leaders showed up a couple minutes later. 

I’d love to say being early for that one event will turn around decades of lateness, but that probably won’t happen. What will probably happen, though, is that the next time I’m late, I will look back fondly on that Friday Bible club morning and think, “Well, there was that one time …”

When I’m not writing about my family and our various shenanigans, I write novels and go to the grocery store. You can find my books in stores, online, and locally at Little Professor Bookshop. You can reach me by email at Lauren@LaurenKDenton.com, visit my website LaurenKDenton.com, or find me on Instagram @LaurenKDentonBooks or Facebook ~LaurenKDentonAuthor.