Drew is smart. He's funny. He's charming, and a major talker. Drew also has the last minute syndrome. Okay, I may be making the up the affliction, but I bet you know someone you'd diagnose with this as well. If so, then you are no stranger to the feelings of frustration induced by this particular trait.
My down time happens when my children go to bed for the night and my workout is done. Unless Drew strikes...which he does...often. It's 7:30, the two youngest have been in bed for 30 minutes, and I am about to go do my workout. Drew strikes. "Shannon, I forgot. I need you to check my math homework, or quiz me for my spelling test, or proofread my peom (choose any of them)." I stare blankly at him, trying to reign in my fuming temper. "Drew, why do you wait until the last minute?" (Though I don't know why I ask this, because the answer just makes me angrier...it's the same every time). "I don't know." No longer can I look forward to a little relaxation after the workout...now I have homework to do.
It's Wednesday, and I have gone to the grocery store earlier in the day while Drew is at school. I have dinners planned out for the next several days. Things are looking good. Drew comes home from school and begins his ritual of telling me about his day. With feined interest (don't think me miserable, I can only be actually interested the first 100 times I hear the same story) I listen as he tells me how he scored the winning touchdown in flag football or how so and so told him his breath stinks (hmm, maybe I'm on to something with the whole teeth brushing thing, ya think?). Then...Drew strikes. He tells me he needs Valentine's cards for class. I tell him I will get them when I can. He informs me he needs them for tomorrow. Somehow I fail to see why this should be yet another emergency on my part. Somewhere along the way, I swear, our kids are supposed to get wise to the fact that waiting until the last minute never has a good outcome. "Well," I say "if I can get to the store I will get them for you." That is not an acceptable answer for Drew. He says "If I don't bring them, I can't participate in the party, and I have to sit and do homework while the others are passing out their cards." Nice try, buddy. Somehow I don't think it would fly for the teacher to punish any student who couldn't bring cards. I have already decided that I will get the flippin' cards, yet I don't let him know that. I want him to sweat a little. Call me sadistic, I won't be offended.
I end by telling him that maybe next time he will not wait until the last minute to let me know something is needed. That sitting in class doing homework while the others are getting a sugar buzz will be a good lesson. He says he won't wait next time. We both know that's just a pipe dream. I sure wish I had a person willing to drop everything to pick up my slack when I drop the ball. I think I need a wife.
Note- I have to say, for fear of being lashed, that my husband actually picked up the cards on his way home from work...but somehow, that detracts from the snarkiness of my wife comment, so I omitted it from the post ;)