Just A Minute

As often as I ask our six-year-old “how many more times” I know that often she asks me questions where I sometimes provide the same pat answer, “just a minute”. I have caught myself saying that time after time over the last few months because at some point I realized how ridiculous the statement is when taken literally and when spoken so often that it loses its meaning. Still, when questioned my default reply is often that three word phrase.

And, really what does that phrase really mean? At its most basic level it often means I will get to what you need as soon as I can. Life though sometimes runs beyond the most basic level. I understand this because sometimes when I use that phrase it means I really am hoping you will forget what you asked and move on to something else.

Most times though the stone-cold reality is often that phrase is used because there are a dozen different things ongoing and the one thing that is requested just has to wait its turn. I suppose this is one way we learn patience. For our six-year-old daughter I hope that is the case.

All this often happens when we come home at the end of the day. We are lugging backpacks, lunch boxes, the mail, jackets and often rocks, toys, stickers, books and snacks collected somewhere along the way. Usually, no sooner as we step into our hallway I hear some request such as “can we watch TV” or “I’m hungry, can you get me something to eat” and my reply while juggling the forty-eleven things I have in my hands, tucked under my arms and balancing on my head will be “just a minute”. To me, such a request at such a time seems reasonable. After all, I need to set down the things we are carrying in and leave them in a place where they can be easily retrieved later before I do anything else.

Other times though a request might come through that doesn’t seem like a safe or smart thing on which to follow through. When I hear “Dad, can you come jump on the trampoline with me” or “can I have more candy” the phrase that will come from me will be “just a minute” while I try to determine which room of our house is hosting that voice so that I can shut down the possibilities of potential disaster racing through my mind.

Admittedly though, some times when I hear “can you help me write my letters” or “will you read this book with me” my reply is “just a minute”. Yes, sometimes, it is because I am in the middle of something important that needs my immediate attention until I can break free from it. Sometimes, though, it is because I am tired and I have just sat down. Sometimes I just can’t do much of anything because I just need a moment to catch my breath. And, really, at that point, I will help but only after I can collect myself and move forward, you know in just a minute.

I suppose I could apologize having those moments. I won’t though. I feel badly when I can’t honor every request when asked but I also know I can’t honor every request when asked. Yes, I do pick and choose what I do and don’t do. I hope that is a part of becoming wiser about making such choices because I know those are things I struggle with each day.

Still, that leaves some folks hanging waiting for that “minute” to pass. For our daughter, I hope she takes every one of those “just a minute” statements and banks the time each one represents away somewhere for a later day. I say this because I feel there will be a day when the busyness of life for me and her mom will slow while the busyness of her life will pick up speed. Her life will then be a whirlwind of activity, one which I hope will be fun and fulfilling. I hope though she will learn to stop now and then to think of me and her mom so that she comes to understand that despite our faults and failings we love her beyond words even if the time she takes to do so is just a minute.