I have turned into my sister.
Don’t get me wrong. I adore my sister, most of the time. She is the oldest and filled with just so much wisdom. So much. However, 1 husband and 3 kids later, we used to pretty much tell her to meet us for family gatherings an hour before they actually started so she would get there on time.
So, on Friday night (aka last night) we went to a friends house for grilling and games. Becca told me 6:30…and did we get there at 6:30? No. Not quite. I mean, we left the apartment before 6:30. But then we had to stop at Dillon’s for brats and buns and maybe some Capri Sun.
I felt awful! I hate being late to things! I hate it! But there we were…late.
Or so I thought.
After we got there around 6:45 or so, Becs informed me that everyone else wouldn’t be getting there until 7 or shortly thereafter.
It turns out they told us to be there at least 30 minutes before everyone else because she knew we would be late!
I have officially turned into Mere.