Dilly daddle = effing around

One of our biggest detractors to an orderly life is...dilly-daddling. As in, "Benson! Stop dilly-daddling around and [insert instruction here]"

It may be a word I made up. In my youth, it was called dawdling. And we all came up with excuses to counter the accusation. And now my child is doing the same. Just like momma.

I find him on the floor, playing with his cars. I'm yelling, "Come ON, let's go! Stop dilly-daddling and get your shoes on!"

He continues playing with his cars, shouts "I'm coming, mom!" - but clearly has no intention of actually getting up or stopping his dilly-daddling, until I walk right up to him and repeat instruction, shoes in hand.

Later, I am looking up something on the computer, whether it's passport registration, where my UCCB is at, preschools (I'm too late), or what-have-you. Benson wants to go downstairs and watch a movie. He calls me from downstairs and I hear the tell-tale static of remote control-gone-wrong. "I'm coming," I shout, though I have not moved a muscle, and won't for another 3 or 4 minutes.

A-ha moment (Oprah, your cheque's in the mail)...I wonder if he even knows what that means, since he obviously hears and sees me say it all the time, just to buy a few seconds!