Telling time

Yesterday I had to take Isabel to the doctor because she has a ridiculous rash thingamajig on her leg and I was late usual. So I come screaming into the driveway and ever so (not) gently bundle her into the car and off we go, all whilst I’m explaining that we are going to be late for our appointment with the doctor, sorry that I’m in a hurry.

What followed was a slightly bizarre conversation about

  1. The concept of time and
  2. The concept of being late (something with which her Mother is very well acquainted, much to the dismay of her Father)

Isabel just couldn’t get her head around the fact that we had to be somewhere at a certain time as we had an appointment otherwise we would be late, so I launched into an explanation of how, if we are late the doctor would be waiting and you don’t let people wait as other people are also waiting to see the doctor. At this point I had a feeling that her eyes were glazing over.

So I explained about when we go to school and how we have to be there at a certain time and how, if the bell rings and Daniel is not there, he will get into trouble.

But he’s then at school, Mom. Why would he get into trouble?

Thankfully it wasn’t a long drive to the doctor, so it wasn’t a very long conversation, but then I spotted this clip that was posted by one of my favourite people on the internet, 6000, and it really made me laugh.


ps: the GP thinks it’s eczema, so we’re trying some cream

pps: it seems I have a mole that needs to be looked at that I’ve been ignoring for the longest time, partly because my Mother has been nagging about it and who listens when their Mother nags anyway? (yes, that is so going to come back and bite me in the ass)

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