Stop

"Come on! Let's go! I'm sick of being late everywhere we go!" I'm shouting from the car parked in our driveway. I don't know where the kids are.

This is how it always is. I'm waiting in the driveway while they have to grab the toy they forgot, or go to the bathroom, or grab the jacket I told them to get 10 minutes ago. I can't remember the last time we were on time for a class, or church, or a doctor appointment.

"Where the hell are they?" I mutter to myself. Then I see them in a corner of our front yard. They are on their tiptoes, stretching so that their noses can reach the just blooming roses. They are inhaling deeply and smiling.

I watch quietly for several minutes. We were late for storytime.