Black like my soul.

Look. I can’t be funny all the time.

I can’t even poke my kids and say “Hey, do something funny.”

Okay, I can poke Beta and he’ll step up to the plate, but sometimes translation is hard and you can’t distill the funny into a cut-scene. So today we do shameless promotion.

(cue trumpet fanfare)

BEHOLD SHAMELESS PROMOTION!

Today’s beloved topic is the coffee.

Oh, that magical brew that allows me to be functional against my natural circadian rhythm and the demands of children who apparently do not have circadian rhythms and do not respect the circadian rhythms of others. The brand I propose to you today is the Perle Noire.

(linky goes not to the Amazonian empire and I am not being paid for this review)

The bag was a birthday gift from my sister-in-law, who understands my love of coffee. She also understands that Mama Ain’t Proud(tm) and I will drink whatever coffee is on hand. Because I am just grateful to have coffee. Because its hard to justify the really expensive coffee when I have a pack of feral chimps in my house who’ll eat two dozen hardboiled eggs in less than a day.

There’s my self-slam. I’m cheaper than eggs.

Thus I am gifted the Expensive Coffee. Because when you’re all grown up, its the expensive treats that really get you excited.

Anyway – I cannot tell you in pretentious wine terms about “hints of oak” or “a chocolate finish”. I have not that refined a palate (see again, Mama Ain’t Proud(tm)) But it is smooth. So smooth. Like they took out that bitter sucker punch of your first morning’s hit and replaced it with unicorns and rainbows. I suppose it must be mentioned that I drink my coffee black. Black black blackity black. No sugar. No cream. Nothing. Just me, hot water, and the sacred almighty bean to whom I pledge life and loyalty.

There is nothing to stand between me and whatever the Coffee Gods decide to put in my mug in the morning and so I must taste its full savage judgement.

And Perle Noire loves me. It says to me “Child, life is hard. You’re going to need this. Godspeed.” And I say, “Thank you, Perle Noir. Without you, my life is meaningless.”

Even the smell is smooth. Everything about Perle Noire is dark and silky and full of love. You want Perle Noir. Trust me.

At a certain age

(Daylong montage of parents getting breakfast donuts, birthday card, ice cream cake, discussing sushi dinner parameters)

Me: (standing in kitchen, watching Alpha enter, notices uniform) Going to work?

Alpha: Yep. (goofy pout)

Me: (resigned) Well. Welcome to adulthood, Alpha, working on your birthday. Love you.

Alpha: Thanks. Be back later.

(leaves)

(Carrot stands perplexed a moment, heads to basement)

Me: (to Husband over bank of computer monitors) Alpha just left for work.

Husband: (blinks) He didn’t take the day off? Of course he didn’t. (sighs) I guess we’re doing sushi tomorrow.

Beta: Can we do sushi without him?

Gamma: We can save him a few pieces.

Beta: Sushi at midnight is still birthday sushi, right?

The delicate art of murder.

(scene opens in kitchen, Carrot cooking)

Gamma: (pounding in) Mom, I broke my needle.

Me: (pauses, thinks) The one I got you today?

Gamma: (sheepish grin) Yeah. It was an accident.

Me: What were you stabbing?!

Gamma: The wool. (holds up cute needle felted doll)

Me: Wool roving isn’t that dense… (trails off, sighs, kisses Gamma’s forehead) You did a really good job on your first try. I’ll get you some replacement needles.

Gamma: Its okay that I broke it?

Me: They do break now and then, but they’re pretty sturdy so I thought you’d get more than a couple hours out of it. I’ll order some tonight.

Gamma: Thanks mamma! (runs off)

Same Time Same Channel

(scene opens in early morning bedroom)

Me: (instantly awake, eyes fly open)

(seconds pass, Carrot nudges Husband repeatedly)

Husband: (sleepy) Huh?

Me: (carefully) I need you to reach up and turn on the light.

(Husband flails looking for the sconce above Carrot’s head)

Me: No! The one above you!

Husband: Oh. Right.

(light floods room, brown bat circling the ceiling, Husband and Carrot contemplate it)

Husband: We’re going to have to get our windows checked. Our bedroom door was closed.

Me: I can’t figure out how they know they can slither through a gap in a closed window but can’t figure out how to fly out an open one.