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To say that I’ve been under a little stress lately might just be the understatement of my life. So yesterday, while dangling at the very tippy edge of my sanity, I posted this on Facebook:
C.R.A.N.K.Y. ……. if you love me, you will find me a nice quiet warm place to be with nothing breakable within reach and shove chocolate under the door. #thatisall
A while later, while puttering on Facebook during a conference call (which he can do… because he works from home… 
in his underwear… and nobody can see him surfing on Facebook during his calls. fucker.) my husband left this comment on my post:
My arms work?
Did I say fucker? I meant … I love you hunny bunny and always will!
After the FOREVER LONG DAY I had yesterday, I drove my cranky self home … and sat in the driveway for 5 minutes flipping a coin to see if I should go in or just go crawl into a Mexico Lindo margarita. I went inside, bracing myself for the “ZOMG MOMMY YOU HAVE TO HEAR ABOUT MY DAYYYYYY” deluge.
I opened the front door, ever so cautiously… to a nearly spotless living room. Something was definitely wrong here. I sniffed and asked “Uh, what the hell is that smell?” and a child responded (sedately…?? WHAT) “Oh, M lit candles for you.” and then “Oh, and he poured you a glass of wine too. Here you go, mommy.”
Sounds from the house started penetrating the fog that is my brain. Washing machine going. Dryer going. Someone washing the dishes. At this point, I MUST have had the confused tilted head look on my face. I mean.. it looked like my house on the outside. These looked like my children.
My husband is the most amazing guy on the planet. He marshaled the troops (kids) and they all pitched in on a “Take care of mommy” night. After asking just a couple of procedural questions, he got dinner started while I puttered on a couple of chores. With a stern look, he picked up my wine glass and told me to follow him to the bedroom. (Get your mind out of the gutter!)
He took me to our bathroom where there was a row of lit candles around the bath tub… and a small dish of chocolate truffles… and began to run a bubble bath for me. Smiling from ear to ear, I reached into the tub to stir up some bubbles. And then…DUN DUN DUN….
I stood up and collapsed into a heap of giggles in my husband’s arms. Just when I started to believe that I came home to the wrong house… NO HOT WATER. The youngest didn’t take a shower before school, so she took one after school instead and used up all the hot water.
I blew out the candles, ate all of the chocolates and checked my email. But I’ll tell you what… I was smiling the entire time.
12… twelve… TWELVE! That is the number of travel mug lids in my kitchen cabinet. No mugs. Just lids. I am not kidding!
I have no idea where they go, or how they’re getting there. Obviously there are multiple meanings to the term “travel mug”. I never dreamed it meant they’d be traveling alone… and leaving their handy dandy partners (the lids) behind!
They aren’t in my van (ok, one was, but it had the lid on it…). They aren’t on the porch. None in my husband’s car. None in the kids rooms. The dogs are NOT happy that I keep looking under the beds and finding their stashes of things (mismatched socks….. hmmmm) and shuffling things around. Still no travel mugs. I’m almost certain they have been devoured by the long lost (and obviously more vicious) cousin of the Sock Monster. I think we have a Travel Mug Monster.
To all you bigtime travel mug maker companies out there… please put one of those baby glove attachment strings between the cup and the lid. That would be so very helpful. Maybe then I would have a cabinet full of half washed mugs to bitch about instead of just those sad, lonely, pitiful looking lids who are pining for their missing mug companions. If we could save just one travel mug from this evil and malicious monster, for under $.12 a day… oh wait… wrong plea… If we could save just one travel mug from this evil and malicious monster by attaching a teeny tiny connector, life would be so much more pleasant for the people who have to be on the road with me in the mornings.
OH and while we’re on the subject… if you could all just pick one darned size of lid and stick with it, that’d be great. Have you ever spent 20 minutes fishing through (TWELVE) lids to find the one that actually fits your mug so that you can go to work? It’s annoying as hell.
So, in conclusion:
- Attach the lids to the mugs so they don’t get traumatized by the separation (and then give me one for my birthday)
- Make the lids uniform size
- Get a doggie gate for the laundry room so the “sock monsters” go away.
That is all.
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