Five Minutes Can Mean the World to a Kid

This morning, I’m all in my head. Mentally, I’m already at work. I’m thinking about deadlines and clients and deliverables.

Last night, I had grand plans of being at the office by 6:30 am. Yeah, but there’s the time change. So it’s 8:15 am and I am feeling behind. Add to that the fact that we’re a one car family and today is my turn to be on the bike trail to work. A longer commute, even if it’s one I enjoy. But it takes more time.

Ian, my 6-year-old is leaving for the bus stop (on his scooter which he’ll lock up) at the same time I’m pulling my bike out of the garage. He asks, “Mommy, can you please wave to me when I’m on the bus?”

I start to think, I can’t do that. I’m already late. And the bus won’t be along for another 5 to 8 minutes.


I’m only late for a timeline I set for myself. Five to eight minutes will mean the world to this kid. This kid who always has a big hug and a kiss for me as he’s boarding the bus. And who waves with such energy and vigor and a smile on his face. How can I miss that? How can I deprive him of that.

Max, his older brother is a great kid. But he’s too cool for any of this cute stuff. Ian won’t want hugs and kisses at the bus stop forever. He won’t want to wave to me like this always.

I say, “Of course, Ian. I love waving to you.”

And after school, when he asks me, “Mom, will you go scootering with me?” … The answer is easy. “Yes, Ian. I’d love to.”


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