Pulling into a space in the Park High School parking lot, I smiled. I needed to let my son know that I had arrived to pick him up from track practice. I had smiled for a very good reason. I had let my son know that I was going to arrive at 5:12PM and there I was, right on time. See? Proof.

Never mind the fact that I was supposed to be there at 5PM. In my book, the twelve minutes of lateness no longer counted. I have proof. I was on-time. Sorta.