5 more minutes

To the alarm clock that’s buzzing in my ear and slapping me in the face with your ‘5:10!’ ‘5:10!’ ‘5:10!’ ‘5:10!’… 5 minutes, please. I just need 5 more minutes.


To the shower that’s trickling water from our corroded pipes with the force of a little boy peeing from the ceiling, can you just puhleeeeeeez summon the hot water from the tank in the basement a little faster? Waiting 10 minutes for the water to get hot is too long to stand naked shivering in the bathroom twiddling my thumbs. 10 minutes is too long, 5 minutes of waiting would be much better.

To the doggie downstairs at the back door holding your knees together waiting for me to finish putting the coffee in the coffee maker – 5 minutes, can you wait?….oh no.

No you can’t.


To the clock that’s burning holes in my corneas from the cable box inches from my face as I’m on my hands and knees cleaning a HUGE puddle of pee (seriously, how does a 10 pound dog hold that much liquid?), 5 extra minutes please, just roll back 5 minutes, I wasn’t anticipating this.

To the baby upstairs stirring in your crib as the clock is striking 6:15am while I’m still just now filling in my second eyebrow with pencil, go back to sleep for 5 minutes more please, just this one time, that’s all I need to make myself not look like a one-eyebrow-sporting trampy hobo.


To the hubby staring at the clock with the baby in your arms waiting for your turn to shower under the little boy pee pee stream, I know I’m running 5 minutes late. I just need 5 more.

And again to the hubby who is now running 5 minutes late because I was running 5 minutes late, I’m sorry I stole your 5 minutes but I have to get out the door. Like 5 minutes ago.

To the red lights and the passing train and all the passengers who have to cross the street and the stop signs, dear God why are there so many stop signs? and the people who clearly are not running 5 minutes late because they’re driving the speed limit perfectly and the key card I need to get into the building that has somehow made it to the bottom of my purse under my wallet, my lip gloss, my wads of receipts, my phone, my 3 pairs of earrings and my Christmas card that I’m not sure why I’m still carrying around, 5 minutes to find you is 5 minutes too long.


To the closed elevator I’ve been staring at for 5 minutes, come on, come on, come on already! It’s a 14 story building and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one here this early waiting for you.

To everyone waiting in line in front of me in the cafeteria, could I just maybe perhaps get you to put your phones down and actually pay the woman? 5 more minutes in line and I might pass out from hunger.


To everyone who needs me right now right now right now because your problem is the worst of the worst and you need it fixed 5 minutes ago, I’m gonna need 5 minutes to finish with the other unfortunate soul who has problems as big as yours.

And at the end of the day to my beautiful baby waiting at daycare for me, I’m almost there, so close I can taste it, 5 minutes away with butterflies in my stomach thinking about watching you squeal in delight as you catch a glimpse of me at the door, smelling your sweet Baby Soft lavender-scented hair and feeling your long skinny arms wrap themselves around my neck because you are just as happy to see me as I am you. For you, I will make 5 minutes. I don’t know how but I will.

To the 5 minutes that I begged and pleaded for, thank you for not listening when I was cleaning up dog pee and instead saving yourself for the best part of my day by getting me there 5 minutes early.


Ah, 5 more minutes to count these lashes while she’s dreaming tonight.



Filed under Love, Parenting

3 responses to “5 more minutes

  1. so sweet–you are such a great writer.

  2. I agree with Mina above — wonderfully written! I look forward to all your posts and am never disappointed.

  3. You are an amazing writer. It will be a glorious day indeed when Summer can read and appreciate all your posts.

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