I like to sing the song from Madagascar in the morning to Sam. Anything to put a fun spin on the otherwise drill sergeant tone of the morning routine.
Sam is very into time right now. How long can I...watch tv, play a game and, you know, wander around the house taking entire minutes longer to do something than my mother can possibly stand before her head pops off?
When I say, okay, you can have 5 more minutes and then call time, he invariably argues that that could not possibly have been 5 minutes. It had to have been 2 minutes.
So this morning, he is talking about what toy or book he MUST have for after-care at school and I ramble off something about how NO - we must go now because I cannot wait another 5 minutes while he figures this out.
Sam: "Mom, you really gotta get that clock fixed."
He's 7 1/2. How screwed am I?
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