Mom says it’s Writing Time. I know what that means. Be a good girl. No barking, no stealing, no begging, and no being sneaky for one whole hour. Mom writes for an hour a day. She even wrote a story about it. Isn’t that nuts? Writing about writing? It’s like thinking about thinking, or talking about talking. Ouch! I just gave myself a headache.
When mom writes, she sets the clock on her iPad and when time is up, it chimes. I know what that means, too. I run to the door and bark like the Poland Spring man is here. Then Mom says, “It’s not the doorbell, silly! Calm down. Come here and have a cookie.” It works every time.
Mom stops writing after the chime – and the barking, and the cookie. Exactly one hour. That means we can play or go for a ride in the car. Time can be tricky, but not for me. A tiny lightning bolt inside my brain tells me when to start pushing and kissing Mom to wake her up for my breakfast. Later it tells me to sit by the door with a sicky face, so she’ll take me out for a walk. The brain lightning lets me know when it’s time for dinner, and when to stare out the window looking for my friend Lila.
Time is a piece of cake. Mom says “Time flies” and “Time’s up” and “Just in time” and “What a waste of time”. I’m not sure about those, but Writing Time means coffee, computer, and good girl. It’ll be over soon….
If you want to see what Mom says about time, read it here – What a Difference an Hour Makes