Aunty Acid by Ged Backland for May 18, 2023

True. We know you, Aunty. I’m sort of the same way – just add five minutes to any time I say.

When I was dating my wife and her daughter would phone and ask when she would be home, she would say in five minutes, even though we were 1/2 hr away. I told her, “Don’t lie to your kids!”

I’ll come back tomorrow.

Take your time, Aunty. We’re not waiting.

Trust Issues

When going to an event, I would tell husband what time we needed to leave. He would say it doesn’t take that long to get there. He never understands, it is more than driving there, it includes traffic, parking and walking in to venue.

I’m anal about punctuality; I understand that occasionally unexpected things occur and am patient about waiting. Once I learn that a “friend” is chronically late, I wait 5 minutes and I’m gone!

I can’t tell you how many times I heard my wife say “we are on our way” and I look around and see my couch and TV. I am on my way to nowhere.

several times we have told my parents an event started 30 mins earlier…just so that they would arrive on time…cuz it was always my dad who would be late, with our mother in tow…she always was done, even when she had to take care of us 4 kids when we were little…

I often explain my tardiness with the excuse, “I wasn’t the one blow drying my hair 15 minutes prior to the event.”

No aunty, it is your personal problem, as there will be a locked door between us.

If you are five away and I believe you, and you miss the ride, that’s on YOU, Aunty.

When married to my first wife she would pull this stunt almost every time we had tickets to something she wanted to go to. I got tired of waiting in the lobby for 30 – 60 minutes until the first intermission of any performance. Then one night I just said “We have just enough time to drive there, park the car, walk to the venue and get our seats. I’m going now.” And left. She was on time for the next performance. Turns out she was always late out of disrespect. She was even late for the divorce.

I’m sorry I’m late. I got here as soon as I wanted.

From The Hitch Hiker’s Guide To The Galaxy-

“Come along, Arthur, or you’ll be late.”

“Late?”

“Yes, late. As in the Late Arthur Dent. That’s a threat, you know? I’m not very good at them.”

Starting in Fifth Grade, I played organ for daily church services. I really felt my being late would be a sin, besides being merely disrespectful; and although I no longer play I still feel that way in all things. “Kyrie Eleison.”

I had a housemate who drove me crazy. Her bedroom clock was set five minutes ahead, her bathroom clock (yes) was set ten minutes ahead and her kitchen clock was fifteen minutes ahead. She was still late EVERYWHERE!

Not much chance I’m believing you, and I ain’t waiting.

Generally, I will wait once for someone. After that, I mention that I waited last time, and won’t do it again without a call to give me a chance to finish whatever I was doing too. Being chronically late is deliberate and often a sign of passive aggression. I don’t play games like that.

My father always kept mom from getting somewhere on time. It was after she passed that my father became on time, EVERY TIME! Which made me change things within me.

Now days, I simply ask my hub “what time do you want to leave?” and I know how much time I need to get ready and be on time for when he wants to leave.

Aunty would feel right at home here in Mexico, where, if someone is actually on time (according to US expectations), I am really, really surprised!