As I look back over my spotty record of bloging, I am shocked! Shocked and appalled at my inability to blog regularly and consistently. Well, no more! No more, I say! I shall sit here and type until my fingers are nothing but bloody stumps. Or until I finish a blog entry. Whichever comes first. And I'm not getting up until I'm done!
After I sort the laundry, that is. I can take short laundry duty breaks. And potty breaks, of course. And food breaks. To recap: laundry, potty, eat and blog. That's it for the day.
I had a vision the other day. A beautiful vision that filled me with happiness, contentment and...
What? No, we're not out of juice. Look in the.... No, no, next to the.... Oh, for heaven's sake. I'll be right there.
So, as I was saying. I was zipping along the interstate when I saw...
Clean shorts? They're in the dryer. No one will see you if you run downstairs in your undies. Haven't you ever seen "Risky Business?" Of course not. Just a minute, I'll get them.
... the most beautiful thing! At first I thought it was a mirage, a trick of the morning sun reflecting off a dip in my caffeine level.
Speaking of caffeine, maybe a little sum-sum would be a good "perk" me up about now. Heh, heh, heh. A little coffee humor there. I crack me up sometimes. Can't type and drink hot coffee at the same time, so maybe I'll check my email quick.
But there it was, shimmering up ahead in the distant traffic. Well, not really shimmering, because it was brown...
Crappity crap crap! I forgot all about finishing up those reports for the church!
...a brown beacon calling to me from...
What do you mean the file's too big to email? I don't have time to drive to the church, fire up that computer and download everything to a flash drive. "Computers will make your life easier" my fanny!
... just up ahead. I put on my best NASCAR moves and pulled up right behind...
Of course we can have lunch now. What would you like? No, we're not going to Olive Garden. Let me rephrase that: What would you like that we have in the kitchen?
... a big, beautiful, 18-wheeler. Emblazoned across the back was...
Oh, jeez! I forgot to call the Queen Mother this morning. She should be back from lunch by now, but not completely in nap mode yet.
... the single most enticing word in the English language.
EEEEP!!! You're dripping all over the floor! Get a towel! NO! NO! Not with those muddy feet! Stay right there! I'll get it! Don't move!
Coffee.
If it takes the kids 10 minutes to get every bucket, pail, squirt gun and shovel out of the garage, why does it take so much longer to pick them up?
Forget the Porsche. Forget the Mini Cooper. I want my own, personal semi-tanker filled with coffee.
Dinner? Didn't we just eat lunch?
For a brief, blissful moment I just cruised behind the Holy Grail of coffeedom, fantasizing about driving my own tanker truck of coffee. Just me, my rig and an endless supply of java, making our way 'cross the U.S. of A.
Holy Crap! That's the smoke alarm!
It would be WAY better than those dinky, drink-holder hats. I mean, they only hold two cans. A mere 24-ounces. This would be an entire tanker-full!
Could someone please get the phone?
Yeah, I'd have to work out the whole freshness thing.
Hellooo. Phone's ringing.
And I'd probably have to hit every rest stop along the way.
Hey! Ya' phone's ringin'!
Plus a few gas station restrooms in between.
Oh, for the luva... Yes. No. No. Hmmm, Culver or Branstad? I'm waiting for door number three. The biggest problem facing Iowans today? Too many friggin' political calls! Hello? Anyone there?
Then I pulled close enough to read the fine-ish print.
Bed time! Bedtime, bedtimebedtimebedtime! Bed. Time. Now!
It wasn't actually a tanker full of coffee. It was a gas station tanker advertising...
Of course I'll tuck you in. Yes, and tell you a story. And rub your back.
... "best coffee on the..."
Oh well. Maybe tomorrow.
