I just have a few things tonight.
1. First of all, I have officially come to the realization that not all coffee is created the same. (And this comment comes from a girl who didn’t even give coffee a second glance until this last April. And really? It was only the discovery of COFFEE MATE! IN WONDERFUL FLAVORS! OH, SUCH GREAT AND WONDERFUL FLAVORS! that made me consider having a cup of coffee in the mornings. Or in the afternoons. Or whenever the Coffee Mate craving struck.)
While Hubs and I had the boy in Bigger Town for his orthodontist appointment earlier this month, we stopped at Costco and discovered packets of Starbucks Via there, all wrapped up in a FAMILY OF TWENTY-SEVEN size package. And THAT, people, translated to BULK BUYING for LOW AMERICAN DOLLARS.
(And BULK BUYING could be its very own blog post, because Hubs and I differ on that concept. Hubs is Pro-Bulk-Buying, because of the whole MORE-FOR-LESS fact. I am Anti-Bulk-Buying, because SWEET HOLY MOTHER! WHERE WILL I STORE BOXES OF CORNFLAKES THAT WILL SEE US THROUGH THE BOY’S HIGH SCHOOL PROM?!)
I did notice, however, that the Via FLAVOR was different at Costco. This one said COLOMBIAN, and, although I was hard-pressed to remember the kind I usually buy in Small Town, USA, I simply knew that it was NOT the Colombian kind. But no matter, because did y’all hear? Enough coffee for twenty-seven people for a month for mere pennies. Thank you, Costco! I managed to clear an entire wing of the house to keep it in, and we got cheap rates on the U-Haul trailer we used to bring it home in.
A few days into the Colombian coffee switch, I noticed that I felt a little odd. And by a little odd, I mean that I felt like a wild kitten bouncing around on a catnip plantation after a liquid lunch of Mt. Dew. I began to think that THE CAFFEINE! The caffeine was keel-ing me! (Please read that last sentence in your very best Skippyjon Jones accent.)
My solution was to add EVEN MORE Coffee Mate than usual, which translates into a cup of Coffee Mate with a sprinkling of Starbucks Via. It would have been easier for me to put the jug of Coffee Mate in the microwave for a minute or so and insert a straw afterward.
Nothing happened, in terms of change, so it was much like politics. I was still hopped up and had to endure heart palpitations all morning long, as I resisted the urge to spin like the Tasmanian Devil in public places and talk to people in Alvin the Chipmunk’s voice.
So on our last trip to Wal-Mart, I told Hubs, “Listen. I’m buying DECAF Via while we’re here. I think my body is rebelling against all the caffeine for some reason.” Hubs merely raised one eyebrow, which is his way of saying, “HIGH MAINTENANCE doesn’t even begin to define you.”
That afternoon, after Hubs had used my straight-from-Costco Via packet to make an iced coffee for the first time, he took one swig and said, “Wow! That is some STRONG COFFEE! It’s fabulous!”
And there you have it, people. Apparently coffee can be purchased in different levels of BOLDNESS, which a newbie would never know, and which Hubs finally took the time to explain to me, with Venn diagrams and a computerized spreadsheet and much slow talking with elongated enunciation.
And that probably explains why Pastor John said, “This is a nice coffee for a beginner,” when he brought Starbucks cups in for the office two weeks ago. The Coffee Snob in Pastor John understands the various levels of boldness, and that Mama probably needed to start with the level that is on the same footing as Weak Water.
It’s on like Donkey Kong again this week.
Or maybe I should say “It’s on…still…this week.” The boy and the golfing are tight. He has logged a lot of miles and buckets of sweat on the golf course this summer, between golf classes and private lessons and just heading out with a buddy or two to smack the ball around. He keeps encouraging me to join him in all the golfing, and my answer is always the same: “Mama is happy to drive the golf cart around with a glass of wine, but Mama doesn’t want to really engage herself in hitting the ball.” It’s because Mama CAN’T GOLF WELL, which makes Mama react much like Happy Gilmore. I know that getting frustrated over a little white ball with cute dimples that keeps putting itself in the pond, and the sand trap, and the woods, and back in the pond is what drives a beauty queen into an early grave.
It also makes no sense to hit a ball and chase it myself. I grew up playing softball, people. When you hit a ball there, someone else has to go get it for you.
Clear out in the outfield.
Which is how it should be.
The boy and Enzo are honing their skills for the US Open.
It should also be noted that the boy is wearing his new Reebok Zig Tech sneakers in that snapshot. He is crazy-nuts about those shoes, and I assured him that shoes that cost more than a semester’s tuition at Harvard will be saved for the first day of school. Because of that, they’ve been sitting in their fancy Zig Tech box in the boy’s closet for the last few weeks. And then, this very morning, the boy looked at me with eyes like a lonely Cocker Spaniel puppy and said, “Could I wear them golfing today?”
So be it. The Cocker Spaniel eyes were my undoing.
When they were all laced up and tied, the boy grinned from ear to ear and said, “You know, Mom, the soles on these shoes are so thick, I may be taller than Enzo in them!”
Photographic evidence, people. I doubt the boy will ever wear his flip-flops in Enzo’s presence again.
Dear Zig Techs,
You are an enormous boost to a short fellow’s self-esteem. Brilliant marketing move, Reebok.
3. Vacation Bible School started this evening at our church. I can’t even put into words HOW WELL our church pulls off the annual VBS week. Our youth program is the bomb, thanks to Pastor Adam and my good friend, Jodi. The boy is plum thrilled to go every year, and so are his buddies.
Tonight, when I dropped a Suburban-load of VERY! LOUD! boys off, they checked themselves in at the registration desk and were told to pick a bandanna out of the bucket. The colors were navy blue, bright blue, pink or green. The boy is as anti-pink as a boy can get. He will rebel against a speck of pink in his clothing, and he won’t wear it. He and Teegan immediately grabbed navy blue bandannas.
And then Carter, bless his cute heart, yanked a pink one out of the bucket and said, “Let’s all be weird tonight! Let’s show this crowd that real men wear pink!”
That’s all it took for Enzo and Teegan to get down with the plan. The boy held his ground, and kept his blue bandanna.
And then he looked at me and said, “Well, everyone else is doing it!”
(Hubs and I will have the peer pressure talk with him again when he gets home!)
Aren’t they cute?! Crazy…but dang cute.
After the REAL MEN IN PINK headed for the sanctuary, they met up with Gage, who hadn’t gotten the memo that it was MEN IN PINK NIGHT.
(Did I say that I LOVE these boys?! Oh, my word! I do!)
Happy Monday night, people.