Daytime bedtime

We were trying to call 4-year-old Jack in England on Monday.
The kids were out of school. Marc was skiing and I had some of the grandkids over for the day.
They knew we usually try to call Jack on Skype on Mondays at noon so we planned a special phone call with Alyson and Adell each reading one of the Little Critters stories. Fiona would wave across the miles to him.
We gathered in the kitchen, fired up the computer and prepared ourselves for a few moments with this cute little English boy who would be in his pajamas ready for bed when the call connected.
I explained to the three little girls in my house that in England it's bedtime when it's only lunchtime in America.
They were perplexed with how that all worked and curious as to how they would be able to talk to him on the computer an ocean away.
The Skype phone calls are nothing new to Alyson and Fiona since their fraternal grandparents live in England and their daddy calls in on Skype every Sunday.
But everyone was excited to see Jack live on screen.
Since he came to America last summer, he's been the talk of the town with his accent and his friendly, winning ways.

The adorable Jack and friends

I started dialing but no one picked up.
I dialed again with no better results.
It became kind of a marathon thing.
I'd dial. We could hear it ringing but no one was online to pick it up.
Finally, the girls wandered away to play Barbies and I promised to call them if I got through.
I couldn't figure out where Derek and Helen were. Had they forgotten? Did Jack have a sleepover at his nanny's that I didn't know about?
I went on Facebook to pass the time between dialing attempts and there Derek was on the chat line.
"Derek," I posted, "Where r you? I've been trying to call?"
"Mom," he posted back. "What are you doing? It's only 6:15 p.m. here."
(Jack goes to bed at 7.)
Oh. Wait.
Let me think about that.
I was somehow an hour off in my calculations. What had changed?
Oh yeah. Daylight saving time strikes again.
One more reason to hate legislation.