The Height of Laziness

I don’t think most people consider me lazy but yesterday I did feel a little like a slug when I couldn’t work up the energy to take all three kids into Starbucks.  I REALLY wanted a coffee to enjoy at soccer practice while the other kids played on the playground and I vegetated in the car.  Why the hell don’t we have drive-thru Starbucks around here anyway?!  They’re all over the south!

So I did what tired-out moms have been doing since the good old days, when they’d send their kid down to the corner store for a pack of butts (my mom didn’t smoke but a lot of my friends’ moms did), I sent Aliya into Starbucks with my “grande non-fat mocha” written out on a scrap of food wrapper I found on the floor of my car.

I swear, the first woman who came out (wearing a modified snuggie and smoking a butt) after Aliya went in gave me a look like “you lazy slug, sending your kid into Starbucks.”  I hoped that the two kids fighting over a paper clip in the back seat would illustrate my immediate need for coffee and my reluctance to unbuckle their restraints and take them within proximity of breakables.

The coffee took a really long time, so I started to have those negative thoughts, like maybe someone kidnapped Aliya out the front door while I waited at the back, or Starbucks employees were holding her in the storage room until DSS arrived.  She finally came out, with another woman who gave me a look like “I’m feelin you with those three kids and a jones for coffee,” and I enjoyed every sip.

And a personal assistant was born.
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