Sometimes I really find myself questioning my life choices, like on Monday, when I was in the Dutch Bros. drive-through and I ordered my eight-year-old her own Americano.
I was like, two small decaf Americanos with cream, and PLEASE don't judge me, but one of those is for my eight-year-old and she likes it milky. And the barista was all, oh, so one regular cream and one extra cream? and I was all, yes! Thank you! And then she's like, don't worry about it, my mom used to get me coffee at this age, and Johanna pipes up with a, I've been drinking coffee since I was three! and it was all rather heartwarming, except for the part where I felt like a failure as a mother.
Then Johanna sucked her coffee down like a college kid after a bad night, and I was kind of proud. Well, it was pretty good.
Um, that's all. The end.
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