The Law of Conservation of Time

I was in high school when I first learned about the Law of Conservation of Energy, which states that the total amount of energy in an isolated system remains constant over time.  But, I would like to make known that I have discovered another phenomenon that works under the same principle.  We could label it the Law of Conservation of Time, or The Gage Corollary for short.

There are two properties to this corollary, and they are as follows:

1)      The total amount of time that can be saved on any given activity will be spent in the process of getting my kids out the door and into the car, ultimately causing us to remain on or behind schedule.

2)      The more urgent the need for us to leave the house, the more problems we will encounter.

Think about it, and I believe you’ll come to understand that the forces of the universe are at work to impose this law.  How else can you explain why one shoe is missing from where you knew you set it five minutes ago, or why the keys you just had in your hand are now under a stack of papers you haven’t moved in a month?

 

And if it’s not some physical impediment that blocks a hasty exit from your abode, then it’s the complete lack of urgency in the young ones that bars your way.  If I had a dime for every time I’ve uttered the phrase, “It’s time to go.  Where’s your pants,” then I’d have…well…at least enough to buy a Cherry Dr. Pepper at Sonic.  The point is, if the Law of Conservation of Time can’t delay you by an outward physical means, it’ll go internal.  I’ve lost count of the times we’ve gotten the boys dressed, taken them to the bathroom, and put them in the car, only to have Gage immediately load the most foul, runny diapers that I’ve ever had the privilege to change.

And it never fails that this will happen on Sunday morning, when we’re already running late for church.  “Get up earlier, sluggard,” you might be tempted to say.  I’ve tried that.  I’ve gotten up hours earlier and found myself in the same position as always.  So, feel free to grab my sneakers and walk a mile before you toss out any useless solutions.

I’ve worked very hard to keep the urgency and nervousness out of my demeanor, as I try to herd the children through the various obstacles toward our departure.  I thought that maybe if they couldn’t sense how bad I wanted them to move, they’d go at an acceptable pace.  But still, somehow, they manage to lag further and further behind.  There’s an inverse law at work here.

I have gained a certain amount of comfort with the discovery of this rule.  Instead of growing frustrated at the children for their constant lollygagging and shenanigans, I realize that I’ve been fighting against a Law of Physics, and I wasn’t meant to be able to beat it.  I can no more make my family be on time than I can jump to the moon.

Yes, there is a certain measure of peace in powerlessness.