After the requisite potty trip and hair doing, I sent Mackenzie upstairs to grab a zippered sweatshirt and a pair of socks.
She came down with a pullover sweatshirt and no socks.
I put the sweatshirt on her, fixed the damage done to her ponytail in the process, and sent her upstairs for socks.
She came down with a pair of underwear.
I sent her upstairs for socks, trying not to laugh.
She came down with a single sock.
I sent her upstairs for an additional sock, with a stern warning that we would not go to the store unless she could obey.
She came down with the second sock. And a bonus third sock, which she asked me to put on as well.
I sat her on my lap and pulled the first sock on only to discover she had placed a crayon inside it. Indeed, each sock contained a crayon.
I removed the crayons, pulled three socks on her feet (none of them matching, naturally) and laced up her shoes.
And it took me three minutes to stop laughing about it.
The evidence clearly points to laughter as the cause of our lateness, wouldn’t you agree?
Note to self: Factor an additional 5 minutes of time as a “hilarity cushion” into our getting out the door routine. The routine which, for the record, more than doubled in length with the recent addition of a fourth party to our family.