Kaleb’s bus driver brought out the secret in-my-head-wild-eyed-and-crazy.
He didn’t really do anything wrong. It was an innocent remark. “Wow! That coffee cup could hold enough to share!”
Look dude, I like you. You take my child to his place of learning (when he stays there long enough to learn, that is), and you bring him home safely. You mostly show up on time, and you remind me of the monopoly man. But that doesn’t stop the Gollum in my head from mentally hugging my cup and screaming “My Precioussssss!!”
Nuh uh. I don’t share. This cup is my fountain of youth. It’s my ward against the evil little men who carry people off in white coats. It’s my elixir of life. No.
Oops! Okay, I’m a bit crazy.
And, he’s right. My coffee cup actually does hold two extra large cups of coffee. But that’s why I love it. Plus, it’s a total monstrosity that I made at a friend’s wedding shower, and it makes me feel like I have some form of artsy talent when I drink out of it.
The truth is, this mommy is a special kind of crazy. The kind of crazy that is totally cool with my kids watching The Rocky Horror Picture show – but if you so much as think about putting on Sponge Bob you’re in for it. I’m the hypocrite that has mandated that our children will not have soda under our roof until they are out of high school (I’m not stupid, I know they will get it elsewhere), while I rot my teeth out with how much Diet Pepsi I consume in a day.
I’m the “Do as I say, not as I do” mom. I’m the mom who has (mostly) well dressed kids, but I can barely put two socks together when it comes to dressing myself. I lose my phone, my coffee, my glasses, and a cell of sanity multiple times a day. Yet I am astonished when my kids lose anything. So, in truth, I’m basically just as nuts as all of you are. I’ve just learned to embrace most of it…
Luckily, I’ve gotten relatively good at hiding my inner Smeagol alter-ego. All the bus driver saw was me smile and laugh and say “I know!” He had no idea how close to the crazy he had really come.