The Times Are A-Changing

| Related | April 29, 2014

(While attending a funeral, I am staying at my parent’s place, since I work and study a couple of hours away. Late one night, a couple of days after the service, I stay up a bit later than I’d intended catching up with my aunt, and wasn’t able to finish packing my bag. We, meaning my mum and I, are supposed to drive back to the city the next morning. So in order to have enough time to finish packing, I set my alarm for 7 am. We had to leave by 8 am. The next morning….)

Me: *asleep*

Mum: *roars up the stairs to my room* “[My Name]! Get up! We leave in 15 minutes!”

Me: *jerks awake* “Wha, who, huh?”

(Still half asleep, very confused, I check my phone. It reads 7:45, meaning I’d slept through my alarm.)

Me: “F***!”

(I scramble out of bed, tripping and almost face-planting on the floor in the process, and get dressed and re-pack my bag in record time, as my mum is not known for her patience. Hauling my heavy bag down the stairs, I race into the kitchen, to find my aunt and my mum sitting at the kitchen table, quite relaxed, drinking coffee.)

Me: *blinks and frowns*

(Feeling a bit confused, I look up at the kitchen clock. It reads 7:15 am. I check my phone again. It too says 7:15.)

Me: “Hey, mum, you said I had 15 minutes, but its only quarter past seven.”

Mum: *very smug* “I know.”

(As my aunt begins to laugh, all I can do is stare in disbelief.)

Me: “Well played, mother. Well played.”

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