Crying Over Spilled Coffee

Jul 6 2011

Cael, our last nighttime potty-trainee, did NOT wet his bed last night.  Yay, Cael!

Unfortunately, Cael did wet my bed this morning.

Ah, well.  We take the good with the bad.  He didn’t climb into bed with me until, oh, about 5am.  So that’s a good number of dry hours worthy of celebration.  And, in Cael’s defense, I did think about taking him potty at 5am which would’ve preemptively solved the bed-wetting problem.  That thought was right before this thought, “Need. More. Sleep.” Which was right before I crashed back into my pillow and said, “ZZzzzzzzzzz.”

You can understand, after waking up in my son’s urine, that I felt I could justify a snazzy, coffee-shop mocha this morning.  Most of my financial decisions are equally well-thought-out.

Mmm.  Dutch Bros’ nonfat, sugarful, caffeine-loaded mocha.  Perfection in a cup.

And, to further justify my fixation, I learned just yesterday that chocolate syrup is *healthy*!  Yep!  The benefits of chocolate aren’t just assigned to the dark, antioxidant-filled stuff anymore.

You doubt me?  I have proof!  I snapped a shot of this sign in our local, 1950’s ice cream shop:

DUDE!  Chocolate-flavored syrup is a stepping stone to health! I’ve suspected something like this for a long, long time, but it’s so good to have my suspicions finally confirmed independently and scientifically by a Hershey’s poster.

And that means that my Dutch Bros mocha keeps me awake and healthy.  Did I say it’s perfection in a cup?  I meant it.  Perfection in a cup.

It was also perfection on my couch when Cai spilled it.  But he only spilled a little bit, so that was a relief.

And then he tripped while carrying it to the kitchen.

Sadly, it’s not so perfect all over my kitchen floor.

Let’s mourn together for just a second.

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I want you to know something very important.  I did not slurp it up off the floor.  I think I showed remarkable restraint under the circumstances.

I put on my big girl pants and made coffee in my coffee pot.  Then I threw a little mini-fit when I discovered that someone drank or otherwise misused all of my half-and-half.  Then I found the half-and-half in the back of the fridge.  And, by back, I mean front.  Like, right in front of my face on the top shelf.  Whoops.

Then I explained to my kids that fit-throwing is not OK, except if there’s an emergency like when the half-and-half is missing.

They understood.  Except for one of the smarmy ones who said, “Remember what you always say, Mom?  ‘You git what you git, and you don’t throw a fit.’  Thanks for always being a good example, Mom.”

Then I explained to my kids that sticking out your tongue is not OK, except if there’s an emergency like when one of them sasses me.

It’s been a good day full of sun, water, and only a few tears… most of them mine because crying over spilled coffee is totally not the same as crying over spilled milk.

But now that the sun is setting through the trees, I’m ready to go back to bed.

If my bed wasn’t still full of pee, I just might do it.