Here's a math problem for you. How long does it take 3 girls to get ready for 3 swimming lessons if they have to find 6 shoes (matching), put on 3 bathing suits (preferably their own), and grab 1 towel each, assuming they want a towel after the lesson? Answer: 10 minutes more than the allotted amount of time. Doesn't matter that the time they had to get ready, on this particular day, was 2 hours. It took 2 hours and 10 minutes (and 1 screaming mother).
It's not as though they had to put on makeup. It isn't like they even bothered to brush their hair (or teeth), or make their beds, put their undies in the dirty clothes, etc. Nope. What were they doing for the first 2 hours? As far as I can tell, it was some elaborate game that involved giggling a lot. Giggling, that is, when they weren't yelling at each other. I think it also may have involved voodoo, but I'm not sure since they've hidden the feathers and dolls.
Now, just to clarify, they've begged for swimming lessons. They refuse to get out of the pool when the lessons are over. They'll begin their 3rd round next week, and they're mad that when school starts, I'll expect them to wear something other than a swimsuit. In other words, I'm not the one who wants the swim lessons. But who suffers when the cherubs can't get their acts together? Well, okay, we all do, because being late drives me crazy. With a half hour lesson, 10 minutes late is 1/3 of the time gone. Besides, I hate being the fat pregnant chick who can't seem to get her brood out the door before 10:00 AM. Never mind that I'm up and doing before 7:00 every day, even Saturdays and Sundays (that's a gripe for another blog.) Why hasn't my type-A rubbed off on my world-of-their-own daughters? Why doesn't love of swimming, or fear of a maniacal mother, spur them to action? And how in the world does it take 2 hours (and 10 minutes) to brush tiny teeth and slip into a one-piece suit? And what idiot thought that adding a 4th to the equation would be a good idea?