The Deterioration of my Dorfenbergerthalamus

You know how They say that you can’t change someone?  They are So Wrong.  Maybe They just meant you can’t change men.  Or that you can’t make someone change for the better.  I don’t know.  All I’m saying is that I am changing, and it is not intentional or voluntary on my part.

I have included this graph as a visual aid.

I am not very mathematical, so if you have any critiques, just shut up.

Note that before I got married, I was a very timely person.  In fact, I was often way more than 15 minutes early for any event.  I do not like to be late.  There is a scientific reason for this. Apparently I was born with a Dorfenbergerthalamus, a minute but powerful portion of my brain that regulates my timeliness.  The closer I get to the expected time of lift-off for any event, the more I sweat and nervously move my right leg up and down.  You don’t want to be around me during the + or – 5 minute range, trust me.  After -5 minutes, you’ll be fine – because I’ll be dead.

Now, Cap’n Firepants was not born with a Dorfenbergerthalamus, so he does not feel any sense of urgency to be on time for any event, no matter how important.  It is only because my Dorfenbergerthalamus went into overdrive on the day of our wedding and my bridesmaids thought it prudent to kidnap him and haul him to the church an hour before the service that he was on time for that momentous occasion.

Note that, after the wedding, my cushion of time went down.  This did not happen voluntarily.  It is a result of something you young ‘uns and stubborn politicians need to learn about called COMPROMISE.  Actually, in the teaching profession we call it ACCOMMODATION.  This is what we do for people who are lacking in certain areas – such as Cap’n Firepants missing his Dorfenbergerthalamus. To accommodate for his handicap, I learned to deal with squealing up to the event just in the nick of time – just as Cap’n Firepants learned to deal with me snapping at him nervously during the entire interminable car ride.

Once we had Dimples, things changed even more.  I don’t know if it was hormones, or what, but my Dorfenbergerthalamus went a little haywire.  Added to its abhorrence of being late was a new fear of being too early.  Because when you have a one-year old, you don’t want to have to spend any more time than you need to ANYWHERE.  So, the calculations got a little more complicated, but I still got to places on time – barely.

And then we got Wonderbutt.  Apparently, my Dorfenbergerthalamus is eroding with age or just cannot factor one more responsibility into my life; it now consistently miscalculates the time necessary to prepare to leave.  It could figure in me, then Cap’n Firepants, then Dimples, getting ready.  But Wonderbutt has overloaded my Dorfenbergerthalamus.  So, although I am ready at the supposedly target moment, I then realize that I must make sure the appropriate gates are up to guarantee no border crossings occur while we are gone, and that Wonderbutt has adequate chewing materials so that he does not feel the need to resort to our furniture or other unpredictable objects – like the markers Dimples absentmindedly leaves around in case she needs to do spontaneous art projects.

Now it’s Cap’n Firepants who is in the car, claiming he is going to enforce the AIS (Ass in Seat) Law one of these days (see “Everybody Loves Raymond” for more specific information) as I scramble around the house at the last minute trying to determine why my Dorfenbergerthalamus has misfired once again.

So, don’t let anyone tell you that people don’t change.  Once, I was a nervous wreck who was ridiculously early for any occasion.  Now, I’m a nervous wreck who is regularly late and may or may not be wearing matching shoes with teethmarks in them.

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