We are late, always. Despite the fact that our clocks in our house are set anywhere from ten to thirty minutes ahead of real time, we are late, always. When my mother and I are not looking, my father sets the time on the oven another three minutes ahead. One morning, his tactic fooled me during high school. I awoke to my alarm—set twelve minutes ahead—and leisurely ate breakfast. When I returned my dishes to the sink, I noticed the time on the oven. Flustered, I left my house without textbooks. I arrived early for the first time to Calculus.


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