I recall running late to my son’s swimming lesson once. He had not long turned four at the time. He didn’t help me adhere to the timetable I’d set, because he didn’t tidy his toys when asked.  

Then I remembered we had to get fuel on the way. Then we got held up at temporary traffic lights, and then we got stuck behind a learner. Then I took a wrong turn. 

At that point, I started to lose it, knowing we would never make the lesson on time and resenting life for all the misfortunes that had befallen me this morning. 

Then I realised that, as frustrating and stressful as that situation was, it wasn’t anyone else’s fault but mine. Because I was choosing to react this way.  

And my son didn’t tidy his toys away because a) I didn’t give him enough time, and b) I almost certainly didn’t connect with him first when asking him to stop the game he was in the middle of. And I only took that wrong turn because I was preoccupied with my resentment levels. 

So, I took a deep breath, releasing as much frustration as possible. Then I put on our favourite song, one about diggers, and we sang our hearts out for the rest of the journey. 

And yes, we were late. But only by two minutes.