Caffeine. Controversial amongst experts on the benefits and drawbacks of this magical substance, sure. But in my book, this is the stuff dreams are made of.
It is a typical morning where I wake up angry-angry, because I don’t have enough sleep. My 13-month-old (at the time) still gets up twice, or once, whatever, every night and then I have to deal with all 3 buggers from 7:30a – 7p. Blah. Blah.
Anyhow, I start slow with the coffee, just the one cup. Then, soon after, there is no counting. A free-flowing, ongoing consumption happens till around 11:30a, leaving me downright giddy. I’m getting lunch ready, dancing around the house with the baby and the Sly Fox, making up loud verses that rhyme with kid songs, like: “the Donkeys on the Bus go Hee Haw Hee, Hee Haw Hee."
On maybe my 7th creative adjustment to Old MacDonald, when Old Mac had a chihuahua or something, the Sly Fox cocks his head slightly, and with a smidge of a smirk on his face, looks me straight in the eye and says, “Mama? Is there a button to turn you off?”
Really? Really?!
These little guys are very lucky to have a creative Renaissance-like mother who can make up incredible verses to their seemingly infinite array of animal songs. Another mom might be in a straight jacket after years of repeated trouncing by these musical renditions. But no, to survive, I entertain myself hopped up on illegal amounts of caffeine, imagining what else could possibly ride that freaking Bus.
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