Time After Time

"What time is it?"

"Six twenty-five."

"I don't see a five."

How do you explain a clockface to kids who don't even have a grasp of the length of a minute, an hour, a day, a week, or a year? Much less the esoteric way a six can be a six or mean "thirty minutes." I had trouble reading non-digital clocks for years and am still slow; at least I have my fives multiplication table down. But every night at dinner, we stare at the clock over the patio door and talk about the time.

"What time is it now?"

"It's still six twenty-five."

"But when it gets to the top, what will it be?"

They know that when the second hand reaches the top, the time will change.

"Six twenty-six."

"I see the six."

The same thing happens when I tell them we're going to do something in an hour, the next day, or next week. Mind you, if it's not about an hour away, I try not to mention it at all because they have no idea how long it will be. They just keep asking. Most of the time, I say later. "Later" must seem like an eternity.

Now, the challenge is holidays. They keep asking about Halloween. "After school starts," I say. But when is that, exactly? Next week. Right. And then, when is Easter? And birthday? They at least seem to get the progression from summer to fall to winter to spring, so we try to go with seasons. That's in the spring, after it's been really cold. But then, when it's chilly in the morning, it's winter. Just like when it's dark at night, it must be Halloween.

They are so interested in the passage of time, just as I'm trying to slow it down.