You roll over in bed and stretch luxuriously. Eyes flutter open. You hear the soft tweets of a birdie outside, but nothing else. Ah. The kids are still sleeping. What a rare occurrence. Usually they are up at the crack of dawn, making enough noise to wake up your sleeping neighbors all around the cul-de-sac.
You look to the nightstand in search of the alarm clock. Hmm...it's not there. You remember that Georgie took it downstairs a few days ago, when you asked her to bring a blanket. It was downstairs by the couch, keeping time for the cushions. Well, you'd best get up and see what time it is.
On the way downstairs, you wake up Kamy and Keaton, and tell them to get moving. They stretch and yawn and don't seem interested in following your request immediately. They have plenty of time, though, you think. But doubt still creeps into your mind as you wander downstairs in search of the clock.
The clock on the far wall is too masked by darkness to see, so you meander over to your laptop, plop yourself down in the chair, move the mouse to bring up the screen, and look at the clock. Then you look again. Then you rub your eyes, because that can't be the right time! Then you look again!!!
Oh Crap. It was already a few minutes PAST the time when the kids walk out the door. Crap!
You run upstairs and instill fear in your kids. You tell them they have two minutes to get themselves dressed, complete with shoes and socks, and get their teeth brushed, because they were already late for school!
They continue on getting ready, exponentially increasing their normal speed, and you run down the stairs to start making their lunches. You put together peanut butter and honey sandwiches, along with a few other things, throw in an orange (they can peel it themselves at school) and get it all in their appropriate backpacks.
You yell up to the kids that it's time to go, and for Kamy to bring down the brush and rubber band for her hair. The kids come flying down the stairs with excitement in their eyes, put on their coats and backpacks and accept the granola bar you offer to them as their breakfast.
With a kiss and a prayer, and a warning to RUN all the way to school, they are out the door five minutes from the time you woke them up. You flop down on the couch and enjoy the moment. You just survived the 5 minute whirlwind.