Why people with kids are always late

My wife was offered tickets as a special deal to take the kids to a planetarium last night.  We mapped it out, decided when we needed to leave and made plans.  We had to leave by 6:30 to get there early.  All set.  Parenting done right!

6:15 – G: “I don’t want to go to Sesame Street.”  One time we went to something like this, it was Sesame Street themed and for some inexplicable reason, my daughter is currently scared of Sesame Street.  I have no idea why, but probably some damned You Tube ad shoehorned in to an Elmo song.  The anti-smoking Truth ad with the weird faced people terrifies her.  Spent five minutes convincing her that Brutus Buckeye would likely be there.  Still trying to surmise which Sesame Street character went rogue.  She hints it’s Grover.  I’m still in shock.

6:20 – “I have to poopy.”  There goes ten minutes.  Luckily it wasn’t me, or we would have lost double that.

6:30 – “I need my Brutus Buckeye.”  My daughter has, no lies, over 100 stuffed animals.  Brutus is shoved into a cubbyhole with about 99 other toys.  I give up, my wife succeeds.  Ten minutes lost.

6:40 – We have 16 minutes on the GPS, but it glitches, costing us two more.  I have to get two kids out of a car, up to the fifth floor and have two minutes to do this.  Main doors locked to event facility.  Failure.  Doors lock promptly at 7, $20 lost.  Wife still looking for parking, maybe as I type this.

7:10 – We have to find a Brutus statue on campus to appease my daughter.  Then go to Target.  Entire night lost, but we did get two boxes of diapers and a stress headache.  Tomorrow there’s an outdoor movie free down the road.  Let’s see what adventures await.