Slowpoke She

I really wanted to write something original tonight, but either my life is too boring right now, or my brain isn't working right. I think I'll blame it on the fact that I have been sick a lot lately. To compensate, for this dull state of my life, I have posted a story from my archives. Some of you have read it before, but for others, it is new. Read it carefully, you may get lost.

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I think God has a sick sense of humor sometimes. Like the time he created a guy named Me who has an overwhelming fear of being late. To compensate for his fear of late, Me would leave extra early for things like school, or work, or church. When he arrived, Me always had time to kill. He would just sit patiently and wait or talk to other like-minded “me’s” that were in his same situation. Me enjoyed his leisurely mornings. He especially liked to leave plenty of time for margin in case something unexpected came up.

Then one day Me, met a beautiful woman named, Her. Her was everything Me wanted and more. Me and Her got married and were very happy. As the years progressed, Me began to realize that Her did not share his sense of promptness. Her was content to sleep until the last possible minute and then make a mad dash to get showered and dressed before scurrying out the door at the last second hoping to catch every light green.

Me realized that big breakfasts were for Saturday mornings when there was even extra time and less pressure. Her wanted to be well fed every morning so that hunger pangs wouldn’t creep in before lunch. Me and Her began to disagree about the seemingly contradictory philosophy of sleeping late and eating a big breakfast. They eventually compromised when He was born and Her became a stay at home mommy. Now Her would have all the time in the world for those big breakfasts. Me and Her continued to live happily as they watched He grow into a healthy baby.

Then came She. She was cute. Very cute. She was an absolute delight for Me and Her and He. As She grew into a toddler and then into an adorable preschooler, Me began to realize that She was not Me. She was much more like Her than Me. To She, times were suggestions. What mattered was the process, not the product. This drove Me crazy. Soon, it even began to drive Her crazy too. Me and Her would try to allow extra time for She’s unique perspective on the world, but She would just take even more time.

“This has to be some kind of Divine joke,” Me muttered to himself. God must have been up there laughing his head off each time the Pronouns tried to leave their house because She was especially slow when it came time to get in the car. Not just slow, but also very independent. Whenever She would buckle her car seat, She would stop and comment on the lovely way the cracker crumbs created a ring around the pattern on the seat. Then She would decide that it was too hot to wear a buckle and a jacket, so the jacket would have to come off. As She struggled to make the all the pieces of the buckle come together at the right place, Me would just watch.

“Let Me help you,” Me would say.

“No! I can do it,” She would reply.

“We really need to get going,” Me would plead.

“I did it!” She would shout. Me would breathe a big sigh of relief, then climb into the front seat and start the car. Me would begin to carefully back the car out of the garage just in time for She to exclaim, “I need to pee!”

“Why Me, God?”

“Because, Me, She can teach you so much, just like Her taught you much,” God would reply.

“But, God, She is only three. I think I have learned already. I don’t know if I can take another 15 years of Slowpoke She.”

“Don’t worry,” God would reply. “There is another three year old boy out there that She will meet when the time is right. I already know who Him is. Trust me, Me, Him is a lot like you. She will teach Him too.”