Dear Kid,

Are you aware of the importance of today? You’re not? Today. Is. Epic.

Well, at least it has the potential to be epic.

EPIC—noting or pertaining to a long poetic composition, usually centered upon a hero, in which a series of great achievements or events is narrated in elevated style

Errr, I don’t mean that today will be an exceptionally loooooong, difficult to understand poem. Nor do I think we’re likely to see an unusual explosion of heroes (although exploding heroes could be interesting).

EPIC—of unusually great size or extent

No, I don’t believe that there will be more than the usual number of hours in the day today.

EPIC—Slang. Spectacular; very impressive; awesome

There we go. That’s what I had in mind.

Today is National Coffee Day. Did you hear me? National. Coffee. Day!!

A day to celebrate the caffeine in the bean. A day to celebrate the drip, drip of percolating perfection. A day to feel good about enjoying one more cup.

Of course, as far as I’m concerned, pretty much every day is a day to celebrate the joy that is coffee.

Which means maybe today is just an ordinary day with a really good label.

A really, really good label.

An EPIC label.

A Coffee Label. Happy National Coffee Day!

Hope your day is EPIC!

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

“I’ll be up early,” said my new acquaintance, “I’m usually up at around 4am.”

As a conversation stopper, that statement was right up there with “Let’s talk politics and religion.”

I searched for common ground. “That’s awfully early, even to turn on the coffee pot.”

My new acquaintance was ready with conversation stopper #2. “I don’t drink caffeine. Just water.”

Uh-huh. And your thoughts on the upcoming presidential election are…? Ever ready with clever repartee, I said, “I see.”

“I just don’t sleep much,” new acquaintance said.

Never at a loss for words, I replied, “Ah.”

Predictably, that’s where the small talk ended.

In other jolt-worthy news, my friend B is all excited. She’s found a new pre-workout drink that has time release capsules and provides a blast of energy and mental alertness. She’s thrilled with this new beverage and let me taste it. Tasted like tangerine (which was good because the label said it was tangerine flavor).

I took a good look at the container. Turns out that inside these super advance incredible time release capsules is—you guessed it—caffeine. A lot of caffeine. More caffeine than 2 large cups of coffee. There’s also a bunch of unpronounceable stuff that’s supposed to be crazy healthy for you if you work out a lot.

But mostly it’s caffeine.

I’m considering putting my new acquaintance and my friend B in a room and seeing what happens. I’ll be watching while I sip a cup (or two) of regular old coffee. And smiling.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

You know those boxes that Chinese food comes in? Those ubiquitous containers are called oyster pails (you didn’t know that, did you?).

They are called oyster pails because they were originally designed to hold clams. Kidding, they were originally designed to hold oysters.

The origami-like pail was invented in the late 1800s when oysters were mucho popular and much less expensive than they are these days. Although they were everywhere, oysters were not easy to open. So when people bought them, they usually had the oyster monger crack the mollusks open (the better not to severely injure themselves in the shucking process). The opened oysters were put into – you guessed it – oyster pails for the ride home. No word on how the oysters felt about transportation via box.

By the mid-1900s, overfishing and burger joints meant people weren’t eating many oysters. Which left a whole lot of boxes with nothing to do.

Enter Chinese take-out.

And now you know.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

We’re halfway through the weekend. (I’m guessing you knew that, but I wanted to be sure.)

Sundays are IMHO a great day for brunch. Pancakes, coffee, French Toast, coffee, omelets, coffee, ooey gooey pastries, coffee….I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.

So—with the exception of coffee—we’re skipping all that yumminess to go on a bike ride.

Our plan is to head over to the Little Miami bike trail, ride for a while, and then go to the Loveland art festival. Or something like that.

Without brunch.

Then home to a long To-Do list.

Also without brunch.

It should still be a lovely Sunday.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

If you’d been hanging around London on September 10, 1897, and if you’d been positioned so that you could see properly, you’d have witnessed George Smith, a 25 year-old taxi driver being arrested for drunk driving. He was the first person ever arrested for drunk driving. History is not proud. Neither is his mother.

If you missed the event in 1897, you can read about it here.

One could easily misinterpret today’s moral as “Don’t become a taxi driver in London” but one would be missing the point entirely.

Drunk driving aka DUI aka DWI aka Stupid is a big problem.

Every day, 27 people are killed by a drunk driver. Every day, 27 families are told of loved ones who did nothing wrong but are no longer coming home. Every day, hospitals are unable to save 27 victims of drunk driving accidents.

Every two minutes, someone, somewhere is injured in a drunk driving accident. Every two minutes. Every. Two. Minutes.

To me, it is inconceivable (and yes, I do know what that word means—extra points if you get the reference) that people continue to imbibe and get behind the wheel of a car.

We know better. We know better as drivers, we know better as friends, we know better as hosts.

And yet we continue to tolerate it.

We continue to allow friends to come over for dinner and drink wine and beer and other adult beverages and let them drive home. We continue to meet friends for drinks and drive home without a designated driver. We continue to go to parties and driver, rather than Uber, home.

Every. Two. Minutes.

We can discuss the merits of fine wine or a rich bourbon. We can talk about great craft beer and homemade rotgut. Whether or not you drink is a decision you, as a person of legal age, can make for yourself. Whether you drink to excess is also a decision you, as a person of legal age, can make for yourself although I doubt the hangover is worth it.

Whether you get in a car with a driver who has been drinking is not.

Do not drink and drive. Do not drink and even think of driving. Do not breathe and think of getting in a car with a driver who has been drinking anything stronger than apple juice.

Two out of three people will have their lives seriously impacted by a drunk driver.

Do. Not. Contribute. To. The. Statistics.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Happy September!

It’s a new month (rabbit, rabbit, rabbit) and I am very excited because September is National Blueberry Popsicle Month.

Wait, what?

Who thinks of these things?

I get designating a month Hispanic Heritage Month (September), Baby Safety Month (September), even Better Breakfast Month (September).  And it is almost conceivable that there would be Popsicle Month.

But an entire month specifically for blueberry popsicles? That’s a lot of blue tongues.

And it gets even weirder.

September 2^nd (tomorrow) is National Blueberry Popsicle Day.

Seriously? Seems to me blueberries are double dipping.

Here’s my recipe for blueberry popsicles.

Blueberry Popsicle Recipe

Buy blueberries. If you grow them yourself, then go pick them. But you’re going to need a good quantity of them, so if your yield is anything like ours you should supplement.

Wash and sort blueberries. Taste some to be sure they’re good.

Taste a few more just in case.

Wonder if you have popsicle sticks. Think about it while you eat some more blueberries.

Realize there are only 6 blueberries left, and head to the store to replenish your supplies. While you’re there, buy Blueberry Popsicles.

Celebrate.

Love, Mom