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I have a really pretty clock on the wall.  I guess you’d call it a “Grand MOTHER clock” since it’s only about 2 feet tall and mounts on the wall rather than taking up a whole corner of floor space.  We got it for a wedding gift ten years ago.  I’m supposing my cheap ass friends got it for a steal since the pendulum has never swung properly.

Even though I love this clock in theory, it is a huge pain in the butt to remove so I hate the DST time change.

Like I needed a reason to hate the time change.

Before kids I thought DST was stupid, but it was pretty much off my radar.  However, changing our clocks with the Princess’ schedule is a nightmare.  I will go to bed tonight at a somewhat normal time and smile about getting an extra hour of sleep.  As if.  Tomorrow, the Princess will wake at her normal time bouncing off the walls and I will want to cry.  I already want to cry just thinking about it.

Last October I took the clock down and set the time back.  It took me nearly an hour to rehang the damn thing so I didn’t bother changing it back in the spring.  Whenever I look at the clock, I just do the math and subtract an hour and it’s not that big of a deal.  As for the chime, I guess I’ve just been tuning out the wrong number of chimes since I knew subconsciously that it was wrong.  For six whole months, I’ve been anxiously awaiting this day when my clock will finally be correct again.

Except that it’s still wouldn’t be correct.  Unfortunately, the clock started running a bit slow a month ago so that it was wrong by an hour and 16 minutes.

So.

After I put the Princess to bed tonight, I took the clock off the wall and changed the batteries and reset the time.  I also got all super-domestic and cleaned it so that now it looks incredible.  No dust.  No fingerprints.  Just beautiful.  And accurate.

I managed to get it rehung in only 20 minutes which I felt was a real coup.  I plopped myself on the couch with a book at a little after 9 p.m.  At 9:30, I noticed one satisfying little “ding” and smiled.  As 10 p.m. neared, I grinned smugly at my nice, clean clock sporting the correct time. 

And then it chimed.  Twice. 

I am no longer smiling.  Or smug.

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