9:17 AM

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” Hannah innocently asked.

I sighed.  I hate being the one who always has to make these decisions, like what time we’re leaving.

Sometimes I don’t mind, like when I know exactly what time we need to leave.  I’ll tell the kids something like, “We’re going to aim for 6:45, but we absolutely need to be pulling out of the driveway at 7:00 to get there on time.”  The window of time concept seems to work pretty well.

Yesterday, when Hannah asked, I didn’t feel like making the decision.  Holiday time can just feel overwhelming to me.

“What time are we leaving?” she asked again when I didn’t respond.

“9:17,” I said.

“Okay.”  She smiled back at me. “So we should aim for 9:15 so we can leave on time, right?”

It was my turn to smile.  I love the way she takes things in stride, not even acknowledging the ridiculousness of choosing such a weird time.

Later in the day Elliot asked me what time we were leaving.

“9:17,” I said, watching to see his reaction.

He snorted.

“What time do you want me to wake you up?” I then asked him.

“8:47,” he said, without missing a beat.

I love my family.