Kangatopia

These days I have given up on my short lived addiction to coffee and gone back to my roots of drinking 2 liter bottles of Coke Zero in the relative quiet of my office.  Lugging a 2 liter to work with me somehow seems faster and easier than ducking out to go and get a liter sized cup of joe which almost always cools to undrinkable levels before I get around to nearing the bottom of the cup.  The 2 liter, however, never poses a temperature issue.  I’ll drink it warm, though I prefer it cold.  The difference with coffee is that I don’t enjoy it all when it’s cold, and nuking it up in the microwave seems gross.  So, I can stick the 2 liter in the freezer and as long as I remember to take it out before it becomes a solid mass, I am blessed with a steady stream of a fine tasting caffeinated beverage.

That was why I was on my way to the freezer in my office’s kitchen when I happened to glance down at my watch.  My watch showed the time as 10:50am, exactly the moment nine years ago that my son was born.  My bear cub.

I haven’t seen him yet today.  He spent the night with his dad last night, and I missed the chance this morning to wake him up singing Happy Birthday and feeding him fresh baked high fiber, low fat blueberry muffins.  Of course, there was the bright side in that I didn’t have to get up obscenely early to mix and bake.  I actually slept in very late today – so late that at almost 11:30am, my hair is still soaking wet from the shower.

Happy Birthday, Baby Bear!!