The Olympics may be over, but this world class competition goes on all year round. Here’s what it’s like trying to get a little one to leave the house.

Managing a toddler requires the mindset of a 3 point shooter who has air-balled the last 7 shots.

Sure, getting her out of the house and off to school has been an unmitigated disaster every day this week. But this time will be different.

You learned long ago you can’t just suddenly spring things on her. So you’ve developed a sophisticated early warning system.

First, you list on the entire day on the whiteboard. In pink marker, of course. You learned that lesson the hard way.

Then, you go over the day at breakfast, and watch her mull over her version of the morning news as she works on her Cheerios.

Finally, you give her time check warnings. It’s 10 minutes until we get ready for school, now 5 minutes. OK, the timer is off, it’s time to get ready.

And the screaming begins.

She’s calmed down from her initial outburst and has tentatively accepted that it is indeed time for school. She still doesn’t quite believe you that you guys do this same exact song and dance every morning.

But she’s willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. She tells you that she will in fact go to school. But ONLY if the following demands are met:

You scramble to meet her demands, frantically searching the house for all of Sesame Street.

Alas, you bring the wrong pink and orange striped socks. As she dutifully informs you, these socks are orange and pink! Not pink and orange!

The terms of the deal have been violated, and you now have no leg to stand on. You wonder why law firms don’t hire toddlers. With the slightest incongruence, they’ll bury you.

You’ve tried everything you can to improve your patience. Meditation. Ryan Holiday podcasts. You’ve even started going to sleep an hour earlier.

But every time you don’t think she could possibly up the ante, she somehow reaches another level. Has she secretly been listening to the David Goggins Yoto card?

You do your best not to completely lose it, but you begin to raise your voice. It’s unclear if this will do anything. But you’ve moved well beyond the best version of yourself.

Maybe you weren’t cut out for this parenting thing. It seems like everyone else is able to get their toddler to school on time. Why is it so difficult for you? What did you do wrong?

You accept the fact that you may not make it to school today.

You start drafting an email to school, relaying the fact that your child won’t be in today. Out of shame, consider lying and begin typing that she’s sick. Nah, that’s not right. Maybe just keep it vague?

As you deliberate on what to say, you feel a tug on your leg.

Dad, can we please go to school now? I’m ready!!

BONUS

If you’re doing this while simultaneously dealing with an infant, another toddler, or (God help you) all of the above, please give yourself a pat on the back. The rest of us should give you a standing ovation.