Original post date: August 21, 2013 (I'm moving my content from one blog to another. It just feels right.)
I have a confession to make. I accidentally/on purpose stole this mug. It used to live in the staff lounge. Then I used it for coffee and it moved to my classroom. There it lived, buried behind the Jack-o-lantern bowl and paintbrushes for a few months. Spring cleaning unearthed said mug and I decided to borrow it for the summer. Kind of like taking the class hamsters home over vacation. (Speaking of, I won that lottery in 1989. I felt so lucky. I felt even luckier when the allegedly female hamsters had a baby together and my horrified mother agreed to let me keep it. I named the baby Squeaky. This was a clever name because it squeaked a lot. In retrospect I think something was terribly wrong with it. We went to the grocery store and when we came back Squeaky was gone. Vanished without a trace. That was a difficult time in my life. Filial cannibalism is a hard concept for a second grader.) Anyway, I told myself I'd return the mug in the fall but this is my second year with it and I can't seem to let go. It holds my life-sustaining coffee every morning. It holds cheap red wine on sunny afternoons. I like to sit on the deck with my mug of wine and sing songs from high school. "Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you."
I have a confession to make. I accidentally/on purpose stole this mug. It used to live in the staff lounge. Then I used it for coffee and it moved to my classroom. There it lived, buried behind the Jack-o-lantern bowl and paintbrushes for a few months. Spring cleaning unearthed said mug and I decided to borrow it for the summer. Kind of like taking the class hamsters home over vacation. (Speaking of, I won that lottery in 1989. I felt so lucky. I felt even luckier when the allegedly female hamsters had a baby together and my horrified mother agreed to let me keep it. I named the baby Squeaky. This was a clever name because it squeaked a lot. In retrospect I think something was terribly wrong with it. We went to the grocery store and when we came back Squeaky was gone. Vanished without a trace. That was a difficult time in my life. Filial cannibalism is a hard concept for a second grader.) Anyway, I told myself I'd return the mug in the fall but this is my second year with it and I can't seem to let go. It holds my life-sustaining coffee every morning. It holds cheap red wine on sunny afternoons. I like to sit on the deck with my mug of wine and sing songs from high school. "Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you."
All that to say, I love my stolen mug.
The mug is kind of ironic, so that makes me feel hipster-cool. It's also kind of true, so that makes me feel authentic. These are good feelings. The truth in the mug is that summer is a really good time for me. The only kids I have to worry about are mine. That streamlines things a bit. I like streamlining. So now, August is quickly ticking by and I am in my end of summer mourning period. It's worse this year because I have a new sweet baby. She smells like milk and she looks at me like I'm the sun. Tell me. How am I supposed to leave this?
