If patience is a virtue, then moms must be the most virtuous people on the planet.

We are rewarded somewhat for our patience on Mother’s Day, when our children are (supposedly) thanking us for everything we’ve done during the previous year with a bit of burnt toast, lukewarm coffee and a wilted flower. And we love it. They thank us for being “THE WORLD’S BEST MOM” (at least that’s what the coffee mug says), but the one thing we never get thanked for is the amount of time we spend waiting for our children.

Thank goodness for my Kobo so I don’t have to cart a library full of books around with me. Hands up if you’re a mom and you’ve spent time waiting in these situations:

Getting to school events ridiculously early to get a good seat. You can avoid speaking to the other ridiculous keeners in the front row by pulling out something to read. If it’s an awards ceremony, they’re only going to point out the many awards their kid is getting, while you’re simply proud of your child’s Best Attendance certificate.
Before the start of a hockey game, because they need an hour-long workout before the actual game. This “workout” consists of them mostly walking around and waiting for the girls who arrive just before the game because their parents are smart.
At the end of a sporting event while they’re changing and you don’t want to talk to the other parents, so you read. I don’t care about the ref’s bad call in the second period. I really, really don’t.
For them to do chores (clear the table, take out the garbage, shovel the driveway). Instead of nagging, pull out a book and hold up a sign that says “I’ve already told you once”.

For them to give you their suitcase for the car road trip. While you wait, pull out your Kobo, and remind them it’s not your fault when you get to the hotel and the pool is already closed.

Outside their friend’s house after a sleepover. You don’t want to walk up and ring the doorbell. You haven’t brushed your hair, or you can’t remember the mom’s name, or she’ll be super cheery and annoying. Just turn on your Kobo. Relax. It’s their hockey game you’re going to be late for. Like the smart parents.
For them to “finish this round” of a video game. Here’s a big secret: they can “finish” any time they want. They’re liars. But let them lie, and you can read.
For all of the other performers in your kids’ end-of-the-year dance recital. The only thing more painful than watching your own kid dance in a recital that you bought tickets for (and spent money on the costume and hair and makeup), is watching other people’s kids in a dance recital. Kobo has a backlight. Sit in the back row.

The wait, is over.

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