I have a tendency tooo …….. hmmm….. how shall I put this….. underestimate things. You might frequently hear me say things like,
“Oh, that’s no big deal!”
Or.
“You’re such a crybaby, the bone’s only poking out a little bit!”
Or.
“Whatever, it was only one tiny little ticket!”
Or.
“Ok, so, your flight leaves at 5:50. That means we need to get to the airport at 5:45, right?”
A-HA! And now it comes to it. Such was my morning. You would think I’d know better. I mean, considering I have moved 7000 miles on the other side of the planet. Twice. You would think I’d know all about those big scary things that tease brussels sprouts into the mouths of babes. Oh ye of too much faith. In my abilities. Gimme a fuckin’ break, right. I never made it past 10th grade. Sheesh.
My alarm was set for 3:30. I did say his plane left at 5:50, didn’t I? Right.
And Raleigh is a twitch more than an hour away.
You see where I’m going with this?
Hand to god, it did not even dawn on me that we should have left a bit earlier until I pulled into the parking lot at the airport. Nope. Never even crossed my still-half-unconscious mind. Nor did it cross my mind at any point during the past 2 weeks that I have had to think this through.
I put the truck in park, glanced down at the dashboard clock, and thought Holy Jesus Balls!
You think I was fucking exaggerating for comedic effect when I said 5:45, didn’t you?
Well. Okay. You’re right there. It was 5:19. I shit you not.
And this is where my Teeny Tiny Petite Girl Powers and my Supermommy Powers kicked into high gear. Yes. I have both powers, you see. I was told once as a child that I am a “Master Manipulator” and that “Your mother has taught you well” (as it dripped from this person’s mouth with sarcastic disdain). He was right.