My life, the Cartoon

Focus is not my forte.
I am notorious for beginning a project, and becoming distracted long before finishing. I understand that it is a grievous character flaw, but it is a flaw with numerous comic elements.
Do you remember the Family Circus cartoons from the newspapers of yesteryear? There was a little child depicted who would be shown en route to one task or another. He would head off to do his mother's bidding, but would wander through a random plethora of distractions. The dog house, the neighbor's house, over the fence, under the bed, etc.
That child is me.
Only, I am somewhat more advanced in years. One would think that a middle aged woman would have developed the ability to sedately proceed from beginning, to middle, to end. One would be mistaken.

God, in His Infinite Wisdom, has given me a child of my own with this same disability.

I was dropping him off at school today. The car ahead of us dropped off their kid fast as could be, and he merrily waved to his parents as they drove off.
We pulled up to the school, and Aaron's eyes glazed over briefly. He then asked a detailed question about the odometer. He noticed his backpack sitting on his feet. He kicked at the backpack. He got one foot tangled in the strap, then the other.He managed to get one arm though the strap, so the bag hung from his shoulder. He put on the hood of his sweatshirt, opened the car door, and tried to exit. Fought the still-latched seat belt, finally decided to unstrap. Took off the seat belt. Dropped the backpack. Slid out of the car to the sidewalk, picked up the backpack. Then, he turned his sweet blue eyes on me, "I love you!" he declared. He slammed the door, and careened off towards the crosswalk with the uncoordinated gait of a child whose limbs have outgrown his awareness.

I rolled my eyes and sighed.
That boy exits a vehicle with the same focus and energy with which I do laundry.
I was just throwing darks in the washer, when I realized I hadn't enough for a full load. I left the washer door open, and marched upstairs to the boys' rooms looking for more laundry. On the way, I found a blanket on the floor (which needed to be folded), a light left on (which of course I turned off), the clock reminded me that I needed to put curlers in my hair, I powdered my nose, answered a phone call, and decided to plop down and blog while the curlers did their work. This was when I noticed that the washing machine was still open.

Heaven help me. I am Aaron.
Family Circus, indeed. We should charge admission.