“Hey Lyd! Did the timer just go off?”
“Yes.”
“Great! Are you finished with your Breakfast?”
“No.”
“Really? Let’s take a look here, if it’s just a couple of bites left then I won’t…uhm. No. This is an awful lot. Lyd? You had nearly thirty minutes to finish a bowl of oatmeal, a cup of yogurt and some juice. What happened?”
“Reggie was distracting me…”
“Oh was she? So answer me this: has this happened before?”
“Yes.”
“What did I tell you the last time she distracted you? And the time before that? And the time before that? And so on?”
“Ignore her and focus on my breakfast.”
“Did you do that?”
“No.”
“Well, you did not beat the timer. You know what that means?”
“I’m on my own now.”
“That’s right. You didn’t hold up your end of the deal when you didn’t finish your breakfast in the required amount of time. I don’t have to hold up to my end of the deal now. All I need to do is drive you to school. Technically, I don’t even have to do that. You can pretty easily walk yourself to school. Can’t you?”
“So you’re not helping me anymore?”
“Not anymore today. Tomorrow, assuming you finish your breakfast on time, I’ll be back to helping you. Like I said a minute ago, you didn’t hold up your end of the deal, so the deal’s off. Now I get to sit back and enjoy my coffee. If you are late for school, it will be completely your fault. Oh stop looking at me like that. We’ve done this school routine hundreds of times, and a few of those times, have been like today. This is no surprise. So, good luck!”
“You don’t care about me!”
“What do you mean by that? I just wished you good luck. I don’t run around wishing that sort of thing on just anybody.” (Actually, it’s a pretty common phrase. I wonder how many times a day I actually do say that…)
“You don’t care that I get to school on time!”
“Oh Hun, yes I do care. I care a lot about your education. So much so, that for you, being late is an awful lot more than merely being late. For starters, you’ll be walking along quiet, empty and lonely hallways, all your friends that you give your morning hugs to will all be in their classes. Then, you will have to explain to your teacher why you were late. I might even have you explain why you were late to the Principal. Then you’ll have to deal with me and my immense disappointment, it’s safe to guess that Mom will be awfully disappointed with the news. Then there will be the punishment that follows. You see, being late is another way of telling someone that their time does not matter to you. It’s an inconsiderate thing. And I care enough about you to go through all this trouble for you to learn how to not be late.”
“But you’re leaving me all alone to do this all by myself!”

I am honestly not able to recall the precise dialogue of what transpired from here on in. But I believe Lyd managed to call forth the spirit of a long dead ancestor on my Irish side of the family. If this same conversation had happened…oh…let’s say one hundred and fifty years ago, this would have been the rant Lydia would have thrown at me:
“Oh Janey Mack! ‘Tis a tragic morning! A tragic morning indeed. So you have decided to stop Loving me have yeh?
You decided to leave me at the roadside to tear at me shirt collar and gnash me teeth. Me green-stained teeth mind yeh, for you’ve left me with noothin but the neighbor’s untrimmed grass to sustain meself on.
At least you’ll save a shilling or two on a small coffin to hold me emaciated corpse. Your guilty tears will be the only thing giving it some heft…you’ll see.”

Yeah, that happened…

While Lydia’s rant was notably less Irish and more like that of an eight-year old American girl, I am certain I heard the voice and spirit of a long-dead ancestor channeled through my daughter’s high pitched tirade.
The best part was Lydia was dead serious. Her lips was pursed, her eyebrows scrunched. Her severe mood only added to the unexpected hilarity of the situation.
I stared at Lydia, dumbstruck by the incredibly dramatic and despondent protest she put forth. I was amazed and impressed. I fought back the urge to laugh, I fought back the urge to applaud her.
Somewhere off in the distance I swear I heard the laughter of that ancestor.
With incredible effort, she managed to brush her teeth then (gasp!) she followed it up by putting on her shirt without ruining her braid. She finished that activity with a petulant “hmph!” when I told her how impressed I was. Through grunts and strains, she managed to wrestle her lunchbox in to her backpack, because it seems her lunch had gained the weight and density of a boat anchor since Annie put it together a mere ninety minutes earlier.
She not only found a pair of socks but she also put them on. She also found the “missing” shoes. “Uh…sweetie, spinning like a top isn’t doing much for you. I mean, why would your shoes be at eye level? Try doing something like looking down. That’s a great first move for finding shoes. Just sayin’. And again, stop spinning!”
A few minutes later, “Oh no! Your jacket is hanging up and you can’t reach it! Perhaps you should ask for help on that one.”
“I thought you said you weren’t helping me.”
“Well, you can push down some pride and ask, or you can go cold.”
“Could you please help me get my jacket?”
“Sure thing Hun.”

Janey Mack! ‘Tis a miracle! She made it to school on time and with great resentment!