Posts Tagged "sayings"

Since When Are Coffee Mugs Dangerous? (Since Now)

Dear Kid,

More than once, I have commented on the permanency and dangers of the internet (seriously – not erasable – no do-overs!).

More than once, I have commented on the joys and importance of coffee (seriously – pre-coffee conversation is risky at best).

Never before however have I felt the need to expose the steamy underside of the coffee world. (Get it? Steamy?)

The coffee cup world to be more precise.

Last night, I went to a meetup. It was the fabulous Cincinnati blogger meetup (yes, I’m a Geek). We gather about once a month to marvel over the joys of bloggership and learn fantastic geeky new tricks that mostly we never use.

Susan, our Hostess with the Mostest, provides snacks and beverages (adult and otherwise). Yay, Susan!

The phrase “Hostess with the Mostest” is originally from the show Call Me Madam and may (or may not) refer to Perle Mesta.

“Might there still be coffee in that carafe?” I asked, pointing.

“Possibly,” she said making a face, “but I doubt it’s still hot. You can microwave it.” And then, “the mugs are in the cabinet over your head…no, to the right…there you go. Just grab one.”

So I did and filled said mug.

The coffee was (surprisingly) warm and I drank it (unsurprisingly) happily.

Meet the harmless coffee cup.

After a minute, Susan looked over and started to giggle.

I was pretty sure I hadn’t (yet) spilled coffee on myself so I looked up questioningly.

“Um, I hate to tell you,” she said, “but there’s something on the bottom of your cup.”

“Huh?” I asked insightfully thinking to myself ‘I’m pretty sure I haven’t put the mug down in the cake frosting (yet).’

I lifted the mug to look.

Did I say Harmless? Not from this angle...


I’m having a moment.

Love, Mom

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Going Beyond the Pale

Dear Kid,

Once upon a time, there were uncivilized people in the world.

No, wait, that’s now.

Once upon a time, there was the 14th century. I wasn’t alive then, but other people were, so we know what was going on even if there wasn’t social media coverage.

Snow in April. Ridiculous. DearKidLoveMom.comIn the British Empire, big stakes used as fence posts were called pales. (This was because everyone in the British Empire was fair of skin so they didn’t need the word “pale” to refer to skin tone.)

In Ireland, the British built a big fence-type boundary known as the British Pale (I am not making this up). If one was within the fence one was civilized and part of acceptable society. If one ventured past the safety of the fence (beyond the pale) one was out of the civilized world and likely to be attacked by marauding leprechauns.

To this day, “beyond the pale” means anything unacceptable (like snow in April) or beyond the limits of accepted morality and conduct.

Now you know.

Love, Mom

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Getting Through One of THOSE Days

Dear Kid,

Have you ever had one of those days when you get to the end(ish) of the day and you say to yourself, “Well, I didn’t do that very well.”

For disappearing acts, it's hard to beat what happens to the eight hours supposedly left after eight of sleep and eight of work. ~Doug Larson DearKidLoveMom.comFor example (completely hypothetically), if on a Sunday you slept late (which you needed very badly), then you dawdled over coffee and the Sunday paper (which you enjoyed very much), then you got a teeny bit done on the family taxes but decided a much better use of your time would be to catch up on the last three episodes of the first season of The Blacklist, after which you spent some time with the GirlChild until it was time to leave for the 7:30pm soccer game which ended up starting late, and you realized that not only have you not written Monday’s blog, you have Work that has be done before the end of day.

Hypothetically, of course.

It might occur to you that you really should have done things differently.

And, still hypothetically, you hear—in the wee recesses of your brain—the echoes of your mother saying “I mentioned you might want to get your work done before you watched Netflix.”

It’s one of those things where if it were your mother actually talking to you, you’d have been obligated to roll your eyes and get into a huff.

But since it’s the echo of mom-ness and you did the conjuring of the echo, all you can do is agree. And sigh.

Hypothetically speaking of course.

Not that either you or I would ever do that.

Love, Mom

P.S. I have to go finish my Work now.


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