I had written this piece exactly two years ago.
All of this is based on facts!!
My teenager is a “last minute -er”. Technically she is no longer a teenager. And she has gone for her first unsupervised coed holiday. Exams got over a week back, since then it has been difficult to get her out of bed, unless, she hears of a party or night out! Then she is ready within minutes. Time obviously waits for no one. It did not for her too.
I kept saying pack bags, “Yes ma! I’ll do it” I was hearing that in my dream for days! I am sure she was too!
This was how her day went – for a 4 pm flight for which she HAD to reach the airport by 2.45pm.
She wakes up.
Starts throwing clothes from the cupboard into the floor, and from the floor into a bag, (which was changed twice) Then she dashes off for a shower, which amazingly takes only a few minutes. But that’s because it’s to her benefit.
Madam dashes off to a suburb 10 km away to get a form signed by her dance teacher for her CAS hours, without which she will not qualify for her IB diploma. BTW this form was printed and ready to be signed five days ago. Meanwhile her brother re packs her bag. The poor chap will wince if he sees the state she brings it back. I can visualize him, shaking his head in disgust.
She arrives and sits for lunch. When I chide her for doing things and the nth second, she – without any regret, bats her eyes at me and says “Mamma you know I do things last-minute. You should be prepared!”
We scan her form, to upload to CAS. The scan of course takes longer than it should. And but obviously even the WI FI is slow today.
Finally it’s uploaded and strung up in her school system, then my child starts hunting for the teachers phone no, who has to approve the forms. She decides to call him on way to airport.
We all walk down to bid her a goodbye. And we realize she has not printed her ticket. Again the printer throws a tantrum and does not print. She now has to use her PNR and considerable charm to get into the check in counters.
She leaves and I crumble into a ball of exhausted heap. I suddenly hear a whizzing sound come from my work table. Her ticket is now printing itself!! I am sweating and very willing to swap my three-year old niece and nephew who make me run behind them for hours, in lieu of this exhausting teenager.
You can see me in an hour at the foot massage parlor.