Our daughter, Noëmi (13), this morning travels to Amsterdam, NL, with her music school class to watch a famous musical. The children need to be delivered to the school bus by 10 o’clock (the meeting place is located 15 min from our home by bike).
Now you need to know that Noëmi is not that nervous type.
9.22 – She has already put on one of her socks
9.28 – And now the other one
9.34 – ..Pardon, it was too early to be so self-confident. True, she has started to put on her other sock – which process was then dramatically interrupted by other Activities of Higher Priority, such as an incoming chat message, the patterns on her socks, remembering a funny story having happened 3.5 years ago, a piece of interesting-shape dust on the ceiling..
9.40 – She finally starts to have breakfast
9.44 – ..No, correction: it’s more accurate to say that ‘she sat down next to her plate’.
I, like some high-ranking military training instructor, give her reminders ranging tone from the ‘soft & friendly’ to the ‘loud & powerful’ in all imaginable styles and genres.
My daughter in the meanwhile is kindly asking about my workplace, how things go there, and is giving me some coaching wherever she feels it imperative. She seems to be ready not only to consume her 2-course breakfast within the remaining 35 seconds, but also to address all issues of her mother’s employer.
9.49 – She starts to brush teeth.
We, parents, encourage her tooth-by-tooth.
9.52 – She gets enthusiastic:
‘Mama, papa, this school trip will be such an exciting experience!!’
My husband (in a somber tone):
’My Dearest Daughter, apart from you for all other family members already your leaving home is rather an exciting experience.’
Ps 1: The label on her T-shirt is a summary of her CV.
Ps 2: From among experiencing the above and reporting about it in my blog, it was the latter one being the more fun.