Always Late
By Blacie Hunt
Always Late
By Blacie Hunt
My mom is always late
Everyone will have to wait
She can not move terribly fast
And loses track of time that’s passed
Mom says that she goes with the flow
What she means by this, I do not know
She’s either dragging or in a rush
These tardy ways make me blush
If it were up to me, I’d never fall behind Arriving promptly, to me, is most kind
Mom says she thinks it’s important too
But there are always other things to do
For example, when it’s time for school
She’s busy trying to make me drool
Her pancakes seem to take forever
The giant stacks are hardly clever
When breakfast seems to take all morning
It paves the way for all my scorning
See being late can hurt my tummy And make me feel so totally crummy
Finally we all hop in to the car
And thankfully school is not very far
But the trip is beginning to feel too long
Oh dear, our route, it must be wrong!
We arrive at school well past the bell
If I were a turtle, I’d stay in
my shell
Oh no, it certainly doesn’t stop there
Afterschool not a moment to spare
When it’s time for me to play chess
Our stop at home is quite the mess
We find my attire in the dirty laundry
Oh my, we have quite the quandary!
Rush off to club with my shirt mis-matched
Arriving too late, the lock has been latched
My face turns the brightest of red
Feeling defeat as I hang my head
Finally my teacher opens the door
I don’t even want to play chess anymore
It’s ok to be late when it’s time to see dad
He greets me with hugs to make me feel glad
While at Dad’s house, where everything’s tidy
I get to sleep in my warm clean nightie
We eat our dinner at exactly six o’clock And there will always be a matching sock
Yes it’s true, everything here is steady
But I can’t stop thinking about Mom’s spaghetti
And her hugs and her kisses and her laughter too Who knew being early could make me so blue?
It’s not always bad, the reasons we’re tardy
Our days are so full like meals that are hearty
We draw and we dance
We play and we prance
Maybe I should give this whole late thing a chance
If I’m late for school, it’s because of our breakfast
My Mom makes her pancakes as big as Texas
We sing as we wait for the butter to sizzle
We stop and stare when the sky starts to drizzle
So what if our laundry never gets done
Mom and I’d rather lay in the sun
We’ll sit and we’ll listen to the chatter of birds
And try to reply with the kindest of words
We live in the moment with not a care Mom always has time for braiding my hair
Yes I know we’re often late for dad
But he is patient and never mad
For always when we need to go
Mom needs one more kiss, you know
So I guess in the end, I don’t mind being late
I’d much rather be with my very best mate
And even though we’re never on time Life with my mom is truly divine
