Taxman is a great Abba. He’s the boo-boo guy; bodily fluids don’t scare him; he makes great French toast. He taught the kids to play War. He reads stories and cuddles and schleps and fetches and all that.
But five years into the parenting gig, he’s still not up on the equation.
You know, the equation.
Time to get out of the house (minutes) = (time it takes adults to be ready * 1.5) + (number of children * number of expected tantrums/2).
For example: 30 * 1.5 + 2 * 6/2 = 45 + 6 = 51 minutes. Work backwards from desired time of departure.
But there are the special circumstances: weather and its accoutrement; meals, projects, or other one-time paraphernalia to bring; and the fearsome x factor.*
So while normally a, say, 7:25 departure time could mean lounging in bed until 6:34, I wouldn’t advise it.
Because there is always an x factor.
Like…spilling a full bowl of cereal all over the floor.
Like…a tussle in the bathroom over who gets to brush teeth first. Which means a) breaking up the fight and b) nobody has brushed their teeth yet.
Like…the disappearance of rain boots. Of course, this also means that it’s raining, and if you couldn’t drag yourself out of bed until 6:45 there is no way on earth you will make the 7:43 train and you will be lucky to make the 8:04.
Just for example. And that was Tuesday.
He’s a really good Abba, like I said. But he’s got to crunch the numbers again on this one.
Not to be confused with the x factor they blab about on American Idol.

9 comments
Comments feed for this article
November 4, 2009 at 9:17 am
funky
You get to divide by two! Lucky you. I would be multiplying. because to get out of the house means that wee bitty will take her shoes and socks off no less then four times after I put them on, and that wee one will refuse to wear ANY JACKET but the ywllow one (which has a yogurt all over it and is in the wash). In fact, my husband will not take the kids to any outing that has a specific start time by himself because he knows he cannot get out of the house on time.
November 4, 2009 at 9:33 am
Abbi
This could not be a truer post. What is it about fathers that they magically forget about the difficulties of leaving the house with kids?
How’s this for an x factor: Little one threw up after a coughing fit after getting everyone into jackets and shoes just as we’re out the door to make oldest’s bus.
Luckily, husband was still lounging in bed because he went to bed at 4 am. I threw him the two smaller kids and the throw up and ran out the door with eldest.
November 4, 2009 at 10:19 am
Robin from Israel
Can I add my own question? Why on earth are supposedly very intelligent men, men who are capable of managing projects and companies and multi-million dollar deals, utterly and completely incapable of packing a bag for an afternoon excursion? Case in point, the pool bag. It’s not like it didn’t need to have exactly the same items in it every single time all summer long. How is this possible?
November 4, 2009 at 10:50 am
Kate
Robin, I have the *same* question. (Is this the same category of intelligent people who cannot get their socks *into* the hamper but rather *next to* the hamper?)
And of course it’s *easier* now that nobody is in diapers or needs three changes of clothes. Just one snack per hour of excursion (if a meal is not included), alternating fruit/veg (apple/banana/cucumber) with starch (granola bar/pretzels) + full bottle of water. Entertainment if destination is boring (books, pens & paper, deck of cards, MP3 players).
Not hard! Yet *every* time it seems like a befuddling task.
I would poll my readers who are fathers, but I am not sure I have any. (Other than Taxman, who is definitely going to pout when he sees this. He’s having a bad day already.)
November 5, 2009 at 4:05 am
Gila
yes! socks next to the hamper!! what is UPPPP with that?????
November 4, 2009 at 10:54 am
LC
Hmmm. Have you shared the equations with him? I wonder if that might help; DH is an engineer, and the closest he has come to “getting it” is asking, “Oh; should I bring food?” when taking the big kids to the science museum for a 3 hour jaunt. On the way out the door. Um, yeah? Unless you want tantrums to buy chips and bottled water at the cafe – which he would *never* agree to.
But I wonder if explicit equations might make sense to the analytical among the husbands. let me know if you have any success
November 4, 2009 at 12:54 pm
ccw
This is hysterical! There is the same problem in my house since he knows it only takes 5 minutes to get ready for everything.
November 4, 2009 at 1:32 pm
caramama
The equation is SO true! In my house, we don’t divide the tantrums by 2 and we add in possible diaper blow-outs and time for nursing the babe. But that x factor? That’s still the killer.
I feel very fortunate, though. My hubby not only gets the equation, he packs the bags better than I do while I’m doing the nursing or dressing of one of the kids.
November 4, 2009 at 9:05 pm
Shana
I have given up teaching my husband this formula. I wake him up 15 minutes before we have to leave, after Carlie and I are ready to go and all drama has passed. Frankly, he just slows us down : )