And the nagging begins...

8:55 a.m.: I was pacing.

Dressed in my Sunday finery, I was all ready to go play pianist for a choir in Cudahy at their 10:30 mass. Because I'd never been to the church before, or seen some of the music, I wanted to arrive, be seated, and feel my fingers tickling the ivories by 9:30 a.m. Which, following Papa Guckeen Proper Protocol meant we needed to vacate the premises and on the way to the car by 9:05 a.m.

I didn't want to be the nagging girlfriend, but the shower was still on. And judging by the water splatter I could hear, Seth was still in it. And still in it. And STILL still in it.

You could say it was The Northerner in me that had me hollering through the bathroom door.

"Seth! It's 9:01! You have four minutes!"

Oops. It would appear I had magically slipped into wife/serious girlfriend mode just a little too soon.

But, as only men can do, he was dressed, deodorized, squeaky clean and plenty handsome and out the door.

By 9:07 a.m.