The “Man who can never seem to get his kids anywhere on time, ever” was at peace with himself.  Sure, he was running late again, but less than five minutes late.  Not too bad, considering that I am a mess (or something like that).

Pulling into the park and getting ready to encourage my son to run to his baseball practice, I paused.  Where was his team?  What was up?  Was I a whole day late (would not be the first time)?

Quickly checking my phone, I realized that I was not only running late, but I was also at the wrong field in the wrong park.

The “Man who is a certified mess” was sort of at peace with himself.  Sure, he was at the wrong field and running late (again, but more so this time), but at least he was in the right city.  Considering all that appears to be wrong with me (or something like that), being in the right city is a good place to start.