My Mother Is A Chiming Clock

God help if Used to Be Mother ever loses her watch. She lives by it, and wants everyone around her to live by it too. "It's eight o"clock" she announces. "It's eight fifteen. You know that don't you?" "It's quarter to nine." "It's seven o"clock. I have to put my drops in. You know that don't you?" "I can't eat anymore. I took my calcium at six. You know that don't you?" "It's time for my sleeping pill." Like the old clock in my aunt's house that chimed every fifteen minutes, Used to Be Mother reports the time. She seems to attach some meaning to time that divides up her day. She measures her life with time spent doing things. She'll say that she spent too much time today working on the jig saw puzzle. She read her scriptures and said her prayers for thirty minutes. She needs to eat her breakfast by eight o'clock. We walked for forty five minutes with the dog. I wonder why this annoys me so much?