Knotty and Nice

I was toasty warm this morning, laying lazily in bed under a heavy pile of blankets with a large and wonderful dog at my feet, and a small and wonderful dog near my face.

I could hear the sound of the city plow rumble past and groaning tractors clearing driveways of freshly falling snow.

I hadn’t started my day yet and could hear my son moving around the house, preparing to walk to the train.

I asked if he would like a lift to the train station, but he declined.

The next thing I know, I’m an unwilling contestant on a high pressure game show!

He came into the room with a winter boot in his hand and exclaimed, “I need this knot undone in the next minute, otherwise I’m going to be late!”

Egad!

Good parents want to be there for their children, whatever the situation, but I’m usually the one crankily dropping frustrations like this on my wife.

I got out of bed and scurried to the kitchen in search of more light. Reeling somewhat, I put on my glasses and quickly pulled a fork from the utensil drawer as Tristan muttered, unhelpfully, “I’ve gotta leave now!”

I was faced with a daunting task; I had the will to resolve the puzzle; I was on the clock; and apparently, I was the next contestant on “Knotty and Nice”.

Egad!

This was not how I had planned to start my Monday!

I am unable to open any sort of package the way product manufacturers expect me to open them. I inevitably lose patience and rip things apart. 

I’m also terrible at untying knots!

As I attacked the knot in his boot, I hoped I could deliver an unfettered lace in time.

I’m not sure how, but with focus and strategic prying, I got the knot undone with uncommon efficiency and handed my son the boot. He tugged it onto his foot, laced it, and hurried out the door.

Good deed done. Nerves shot. Prize secured.