With only 16 days left in the year, now’s the time for that final push to win Mother of the Year. If you haven’t upped your game, it’s now or never. And this doesn’t just apply to mothers; it’s the final countdown to all categories…Father of the Year, Employee of the Year, Driver of the Year. The possibilities are endless.
Along with all the terrifyingly terrific moments this year, there are also the…well, tad bit dishonest moments that get your name entered into the “reaping”. For instance, this morning. It’s Monday, nobody likes Monday’s, but we have to deal. And to deal, I needed a small dose of 23 flavors with a kick of caffeine. Dr. Pepper for those who just thought I had the weirdest coffee order ever. Don’t worry; my doctor is completely cool with my 6-8 ounce consumption of caffeine a day. The only small problem with this scenario…I didn’t have any change/cash for the vending machine.
Being the best, honest mother that I am, I waited for my husband to leave with the Diva Princess before swiping the $1.25 in quarters from her piggy bank. “Swiper, no swiping.” Yeah, yeah, I know. But honestly, it was mine to start with and she doesn’t get to actually spend it anyway since dearest dad of the year takes it and puts it into her college savings account. So she might have to be short a meal on her meal plan, I hear ramen noodles are still dirt cheap.
I get settled into work, 15 minutes late – hey, It’s Monday and I’m knocked up – before heading up to the break room, where the devil of junk presides. One by one, I listen to the metal clank its way to the endless pit that promises empty calories and short-lived energy boosts. As the last coin lands, my finger reaches out, caressing the smooth surface of the tiny button; the bottle almost in my grasp. And then it happened…
“SOLD OUT”
Well played Karma, well played.
