Waiting is an art. I�m only a mediocre artist. I can sit and wait if I have to but I don�t stand in line well. Something about standing tends to make me irritable. Still, I accept that much of life requires me to hurry up and wait.

It amazes me how many people fail to understand that much of life is waiting. It also amazes me how many people think that they are too good to wait. Some of these are the same people that sit on their horns before the light even turns green. In my fantasies, I imagine a hell in which they are extraordinarily noise sensitive and are in the first car in the only lane ahead of people like them when the light changes�and, oh yes, their car stalls and won�t re-start.

In the last few years, I�ve noticed that many people are training our children to believe they are too good to wait. Kat was in the play �Annie� at school last fall. (She was a delightful Miss Grace.) Those kids in the play were told to bring cards, homework, books, or any other quiet activity to use at rehearsal during waiting time. As always in theater, there was a lot of waiting time. As Backstage Witch, I was in charge of subduing the waiting masses. I expected complaints from them and occasionally got them.

What I was not expecting was all the parents who complained that they did not see why their darlings should have to wait. They didn�t think their children were learning anything when they waited. Sure they were. They were learning to wait. Creative waiting is a skill we all need. I shudder to think of their reaction had they hear me tell the kids, �Waiting is part of life. You might as well learn to deal with it now.� (Have I mentioned that I am in training for the Miss Sensitivity pageant?)

When my children were smaller and became fidgety, I used to ask them what color their patience was. Sometimes they would tell me it was purple, sometimes blue, and, occasionally, they would say it was invisible and they could not tell. I had to ask the color of their patience, you see, because that patience sure wasn�t being displayed where I could see it. I hoped they would have to find it to determine what color it was. Once in a while, when I was very lucky, my tactic worked.

Unfortunately, I am very aware of the color of many people�s patience. If they have any patience at all, it�s fiery red.

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