For those of you not up on quantum theory, see Wikipedia. My blog title will be way funnier then…
Nothing distorts time like being a parent. It is akin to going to the currency office and trading in a minute, an hour, a day, a year, in exchange for some completely foreign mystery measurement of time. Since currency exchange is kind of like math and I hate that stuff, I have conveniently provided you with some simple translations.
An hour becomes 7 days:
- While at the gym when you realize that you have had your ass handed to you and are simultaneously realizing you are only 10 minutes into the class.
- Waiting for the sitter to show up: you are so close to freedom yet so far.
- Waiting until bedtime, which is when you can have a marriage, a personal life, maybe even some alone time if you are privileged.
Three hours becomes 10 seconds:
- This is date night. You’ve actually been gone for hours but it never feels this short when you are taking care of the kiddos…
- Planning to leave the house with your children. You swear you started the process of evacuating with so much advance time, yet you are still mysteriously running late.
- Realizing your baby isn’t a newborn/baby/toddler/kid anymore. Weren’t they just born? Now they do things and have opinions.
- Realizing that’s how much sleep you are getting for the night. Following somebody else’s body clock is a bitch.
I won’t even get into how the time warp effects the aging process…at least not while I’m blogging in a cafe and not a bar.
