Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Youngest Gel is taking the ACT this morning.  Dawdling over her breakfast (and her phone), she suddenly realized that the thing started at 8:00 AM, not 8:10 AM, and dashed out the door precipitously.  It’s now an hour later.  As she hasn’t yet returned in disgrace, I can only assume she made it to the test on time.

Ol’ Robbo has a neurosis about punctuality that amounts to the nearly fanatical.  My rule has always been that if you’re early, you’re on time.  If you’re on time, you’re late.  If you’re late, just go home.

So this sort of last-second scrambling drives me batty.  (If I’d been taking the test, ten minutes one way or another wouldn’t have mattered.  I’d probably have been sitting in the parking lot an hour early, twiddling my thumbs and waiting for somebody to unlock the building.  But that’s me, Mr. Vegas.)


UPDATE:  All was well.  She admitted to me afterward that on the way over she was worried she might have blown it.  Fortunately, the administrators were running late organizing themselves, so no problem.   Still…..grrrrr…..