"Oh," she started, "I, uh, am going to need you to type this."
"Are you finished? I mean, I feel like crap, honey, how much longer until you're done?"
"Uh, well, I don't know."
(Report is due tomorrow.)
"I'll have to type it in the morning. I am getting ready to go take a Benedryl, though, so you will have to remind me in the morning because I may be a bit groggy."
"Uh, well, ok."
Fast forward to this morning. She comes in and asks me what I think about her outfit. It takes a few minutes, but we find something for her to wear. Then I stumble back into my room and King and I change sheets and make up our bed. Then I proceed to unload all the millions of laundry baskets full of folded/ironed laundry that I made this week making piles for each family member.
The kids are all downstairs eating breakfast and getting ready for school. Number 1 comes upstairs to brush her teeth before heading to school. I look at her and in a moment of clarity, I panic. "Oh my stars, your report! Why didn't you remind me?!"
"Well, I thought you remembered since you were up."
She was tardy for the first time in a lot of years this morning and was none too happy about it. But I think I will leave this note on her pillow:
From this day forward, poor time management skills on your part will NEVER again constitute an emergency on my part.