Steve and Alex are going to Canada tomorrow.

They both have an impossible amount of work to accomplish in 24 hours.

They both have colds.

They refuse to make a list.

I am befuddled.

Two weeks ago I suggested they make a list. They rolled their eyes.

“Um, we don’t make lists, mom.”

I believe they were mocking me. Both of them.

Last night I gently suggested that a list could be healthy and helpful.

I was greeted with silence.

I can’t bear this.

They may eventually make something list-like. But it will be on a scrap of paper, or on an iPhone, and certainly not in one’s best handwriting.

This morning I will make lists for them. In secret. I will lay them on the kitchen counter. I won’t even tell them it’s there.

But I will hope that it will radiate order and logic and guidance for good packing.

And for me? I have four days and a notebook full of lists. And of course, it’s in my best handwriting. The first item is “get them on the plane.”

About kim tackett

Northern CA marketing consultant, writer of very small stories, and drinker of very strong coffee.
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