This morning I woke up to a semi-late alarm. It is a good thing Friday's are the one morning out of the week I don't have a little Kelton to get ready and drop off at daycare. Tricia came over last night and we did the schedules for the next month, then dyed pink streaks in her hair. (I just took a break from typing to text her about how it turned out)
Kelton and I had so much fun the last couple of days. He thinks Olympic Diving is the coolest sport ever. It is so cute, he watches with me and lines himself up straight and puts his arms out like the divers and when they jump he jumps off the couch and makes splashing noises. Flipping into the water is pretty cool I guess :) Not only have we gone on an Olympic binge but we have been drawing a lot together. We went and got a new set of Crayola washables from the store because his old markers were bunk. He has filled up his Ninja Turtle coloring book with "rainbow blood". We drew a poster the other day filled with random pictures Kelton listed (sword, blackbean, fish, chair, drink, dragon chewing bubble gum, little sheep lamb, worms, etc.) and once we paint it I'll post a picture. I love that Kelton :)
Anyway, I was grateful for his absence this morning because I was on AUTO PILOT. The thing that inspired this post is how amusing the gas station was to me at 7:30 in the morning.
I pulled into the
7eleven with my shades on in the dawn "shine right into your eyes" light. Found a parking spot though it was the one with a questionably washed out handicap symbol. Proceeded inside where there were about 8 of us huddled around the Coffee bar. It was like a scene off Animal Planet, a survival at the
watering hole. It started with me fumbling around zombie like, trying to find the right size coffee cup to dispense my caffeine most efficiently. Then I had to wait for a guy who was reaching across the table and snagged the sugar before me. I noticed another person behind me about to lunge for the tiny vanilla creamers so I shifted my weight and moved half a foot to the right. About that time I scanned between arms at what kind of brew selection my trusty
7eleven clerks had out for me. My favorite "Dark Mountain" brew was just dripping out the coffee maker and I know if I tried to grab that pot I would most likely make a mess, a tragedy. My second runner up is the "Regular", not to be confused with the "Regular Decaf". Felling a little foggy, I could only see the
coffee pot with the yellow handle, some extra energy "coffee on steroids", no way am I drinking that stuff. Just then I hear the clicking sound of a coffer pot making its way back on to is holster, behold the "Regular", just my luck. Seeing there is only about two servings left, my instincts take over and I snatch the pot up with cat like speed and surprisingly graceful lines (Olympics talking). I look up and give the guy across the way the innocent "Oh, you were reaching for this too?" look. With smug success I pour my, a little bit to hot, coffee and seal it with a
nifty non-spill lid. Bless mornings. I complete my gas station excursion by sliding my card and having the cashier point out that i need to push a button on the little screen that was prompting me to except my price (not the first time that has happened to me).
As I look back now, I find being so human humorous but the coffee that I am sipping from was totaly worth it.
Love, Mimi
