Miles has - over the summer - really begun to show his time-management aptitude. It has gotten to the point that people who witness this are drawing a direct link to my own personal obsessions with all things related to time/schedules/plans/itineraries/calendars, etc.
Last night Miles asked Gran what time she planned to leave Downers Grove on Friday morning. "Oh, I'm not sure Miles. Probably sometime between 9 and 10."
To Miles, this meant 9:30 AM. No question in his mind. This was black and white. 9:30 was to be the 'correct' departure time (in his mind).
So this morning, as Gran was getting ready for breakfast, Miles strolled in her room at 8:26 and announced, "Gran, you have one hour and four minutes left with us until you have to go."
