i just wanted a coffee, or she got hers

The boys and I got a last minute invite for a lunch and play date the other day. It wasn't all that last minute, now that I think about it, the day was just one of those Slower Than Molasses In January kinds of days. Instead of kicking her out the front door to ride the bus, we all walked Miss O to school, and then the boys wanted to hit the playground, and then we had to walk back home. 

Just as we got to the (nice) backyard neighbor's house, HB decided he had gone far enough, and, NO!!! NOT GOING HOME!!!! So he and I played run around the side yard neighbor's house for a while until I caught him and tucked him under my arm like a football and hauled his little self home. And then he had a temper tantrum for about 45 minutes. It was spectacular.

All of these events added up to no time to get me some coffee. Meh.

We finally piled in the vehicle to go play. And we played and we played, and ate yummy potato soup with crunchy bacon crumbles and cheese, and played some more and then we left before people got crabby. It was loverly.

The boys slept in the car, I went through the bank drive-through, and really? I just wanted some coffee. There's a TimmyHo's across the street from the bank, and so I got in the Horton's drive-through line, that's how badly I wanted coffee.

The line wasn't moving, and, ummm...well, I hadn't had any coffee, and was sort of zoning out just a tiny bit, and didn't notice when the line actually DID move. Fortunately, the wretched woman driving a shiny white Escalade behind me noticed. And ever so kindly, she LAID ON HER HORN AND SHOUTED THAT I SHOULD GET EFFING MOVING.

I could hear her loud and clear because it was 65 degrees out, and we all had our windows open. I did not get effing moving, for the record. I clutched my steering wheel, and repeated to myself Don't stick your hand out the window. Don't stick your hand out the window. Don't...

Did I mention I just really wanted a cup of coffee? And getting shouted at? IS NOT A CUP OF COFFEE. Meh.

I slowly, and boy, do I ever mean slowly, pulled up to the ordering place. I was so flustered I ordered a flavored coffee. With no sugar. And Rule #17 of Coffee Drinking is that you must put sugar in flavored coffee. The nice man asked me if I wanted anything else. So naturally, I said, I want to flip off that nasty Nancy Nasty Pants woman behind me who was honking and cursing at me. How much is that? He laughed.

But then? I had a stroke. Of BRILLIANCE. I would pay for Nancy Nasty Pants' order. She'd have a cup of SPITE COFFEE. And then maybe she would think about her nasty pants little actions. So drove up to the window, and I told the guy I was going to pay for Nancy Nasty Pants behind me, and he was confused.

And I asked him to please tell Nancy Nasty Pants that the nice nine-month pregnant lady with two sleeping toddlers in the car ahead of her hopes she has a nice flipping day.

He said that nothing would make him happier.

I hope she got heartburn.