just letters

the one about coffee and boobies

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dear silly girl,

let me paint you a picture.

it’s 8 pm. steel magnolias is playing on the tv for the bazillionth time. i still love it for the bazillionth time. i have a cup of coffee that you keep trying to drink. it’s a pretty perfect night.

and i know what you’re thinking. why the heck are you drinking coffee at 8 o’clock at night? because i can, that’s why. i didn’t have any creamer this morning so i couldn’t have any coffee and i’ve felt it all day. i even took a nap with you today for 2 hours. i can never nap. ever. but one coffee-less day and i’m out like a light.

i go through these phases with coffee. i will drink it religiously for a while and then i won’t drink it for a long time. however, as i currently must get up and go out into the world every other day, i need my caffeine fix. soft drinks at 7 in the morning  just do not cut it.

at this very moment, you are putting panties across my laptop screen. i don’t know why. i guess it’s fun to play with those. which is an alternative to your new fascination with “boobies”. you suddenly like to look down my shirt and distinguish the “boobies” from the “bra”. why you don’t know the difference when we’re out in public, i’ll never understand.

we were walking through target on friday looking for a bathing suit when we passed the undergarment department conveniently located beside the toddler clothes. i don’t know why they chose to put this particular section there, but that’s besides the point. there were bras hanging everywhere and they caught your attention. suddenly, you were pointing and loudly declaring, “boobies!” at every bra we passed. i quietly tried to correct you, but then decided to just quickly steer you away from the unmentionables.

it’s already embarrassing to be shopping for bras. well not for me, but definitely for the lady who was browsing as you were pointing and yelling. she quickly sprinted walked away from us and disappeared into the shoe section.

what can ya do?

well now you are pulling the dog’s hair and not taking the hint that she’s not loving it. therefore, i must go.

love forever,

mama

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