Tuesday, October 14, 2008

The Egg Timer

Lately, the Great White Lizard Hunter's life is measured only in minutes.

If I tell him we have to leave - "How many minutes?"

If I tell him to get dressed - "How many minutes?"

If I tell him I am cooking dinner - "How many minutes?"

If he goes in the bathroom to take a shit - "Mom, watch the clock tell me how many minutes."

This is never ending. I am tired of the minute game. It doesn't matter how many minutes I tell him, he doesn't have a watch or a clock - not to mention - he doesn't know how to read one anyway!!!

How many more minutes 'til Friday?

How many more minutes 'til Spongebob?

How many minutes is 120 minutes?

Good God. The other day at the grocery store I spotted a cool, red, magnetic egg timer. A light bulb went on above my head. Problem solved.

It seems to be working. I set the timer, put it in his room and tell him how many minutes he has, and explain that when the buzzer goes off - time's up. This morning I didn't have to tell him to finish his breakfast 6 times, and I didn't have to tell him to get his friggin clothes on 12 times. We may be on to something here.

The only problem so far came last night when I was cooking dinner, and I misjudged by more than 10 minutes when it would be done. He had set his timer based on how long I told him until it was ready. Every time I turned around, there he was with a shit-eating grin and that damned timer in his hand. "Mom, the timer says it should be done."


Slick said...

LOl..ha, you put yourself on the timer??

Nah, that's a good idea, seriously.

he's learning time management way early. Hell, he'll be my boss before ya know it.

Momo Fali said...

Well, when he's right he's right!

My son is also into timing everything, but with a twist. His OCD (cough...Mother-diagnosed...cough) makes him want everthing he does to be 10 seconds, or 10 minutes, or 10 hours. Drives me batty!

bejewell said...

This is a kid after my own heart. I ask "how much longer" all the time. Problem is, I really have no concept of time, because when I was little and didn't want to go to bed, my parents would tell me to try and they would come back in five minutes and if I wasn't asleep by then I could get up. So I would wait and wait. But they never came back. So I grew up thinking that five minutes was like FOREVER. I'm still all fucked up about it.