Focus

We were running late for church on Sunday morning.

With only 15 minutes to go until we needed to leave, Corey was getting dressed, I was getting out of the shower and the kids were playing downstairs.

“You’d better get the kids up here,” I called from the bathroom. “They’ve don't have long to get ready.”

Corey shouted down for the kids to come up. I knew, without looking, that Connor was the last one up the stairs. The boy has a hard time staying on task lately, especially when we need him to hurry. “Focus, Connor! Focus!” Corey constantly says. But it doesn’t do much good. Connor is just too six-year-old-boy to focus.

So Sunday, Natalie was dutifully brushing her teeth and Corey was changing Teyla’s diaper and Connor was … well, Connor was doing his usual thing, which is to play good guy-bad guy with his shirt and shorts. “Focus Connor! Focus!” Corey barked.

And so it continued. Corey hurried, Connor tried but failed to stay on task. I know this drill; it’s like trying to push Jell-O.

Finally, we were in the car (and only five minutes late). Corey was obviously frustrated. But he didn’t say: “We have got to do something to light a fire under Connor,” or “Does he not listen? How many times did I tell him to hurry?”

Instead, he turned to me and sighed and said, “We’ve got to give Connor more than 15 minutes to get ready. I should have called him up sooner. He’s only six. I hate riding him like that.”

Corey is a great dad.