Random Act of Kindness-ed

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Let's set the scene: It's late Monday afternoon, it's freaking FREEZING in the newsroom, and things are fairly quiet as we work on our various components for the upcoming issue.

And then Stacey and Kelly (who is the new Deb in Reception, not to be confused with Deb in sales, except both Debs are gone now, so boooooooo) come back with two trays of Dutch Bros. coffees.

The big ones. With flavors.

And we're like, uh, what? because Stacey and Kelly are grinning and asking us what we'd like. It took a minute to figure out why they were giving us coffees. Turns out the Boy Scout troop brought coffee as a "random act of kindness." And Stacey was all, they're just asking you pay it forward.

So here are these delicious foo-foo coffees, just waiting for us to drink them, and Baby Ben is actually sitting there, trying to decide if a Caramelizer is worth having to do something nice later. And I'm like, are you KIDDING ME? It's COFFEE.

Stacey handed me a White Chocolate Mocha and was all, you have to take one of these little cards, too.

That made me laugh. I thought a random act of kindness was something you just did; passing out a card afterwards seems a little off the point to me, but hey, I'm not going to question the Boy Scouts. I married an Eagle, which is probably why we're always prepared. ;)

And, you know: COFFEE.

I felt compelled to announce that this unexpected delivery was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and Ben was like, really? You're life sucks! And I was all, well, you know, besides the birth of my children and marrying Eric, but it's definitely up there.

It didn't take long for the newsroom as a whole to hit a sugar high, so we went from quietly working to bouncing off the walls. It was awesome.

But now that the coffee is gone and the sugar rush has faded, I'm left pondering what I've gotten myself into. Do I really need to keep this card and pass it on? Can I just do something nice anonymously? Will I be letting down the Boy Scouts if I do? Why did I think I could drink a White Chocolate Mocha at 4 p.m. without any repercussions? Also, how in the world did I miss Dutch Bros. $1 coffee day? Those Boy Scouts are tapped in.

Hamming it up

Sunday was our church's annual Ham Dinner and holiday bazaar--holiday because we somehow meld Thanksgiving and Christmas together into one big feast/baked goods and craps crafts sale.* This thing has been going on for years and years. Mom and I used to take a shift serving dinner (from the time I was in fourth grade through college), but then she was a genius and took over the baked goods table, and yes, while this means 10 hours in the church basement instead of three, yeah, still easier than serving people.

I guess maybe I should mention I at least got out twice, once to go get a sandwich at my favorite little bakery and another to take Abby on an errand of mercy. Abby was only in the basement for seven hours, the amateur, although she did spend about two of those serving, which is like seven months in dog years.**

Anyway, the whole ordeal is really kind of terrible, but also sort of great. Mom and I got to catch up, and solve a few of the world's problems (we're SO SMART), and laugh a lot, and chat with people we don't always have the time to talk to. So that's fun. And then Abby livened things up quite a bit, especially when she decided we needed Christmas music and started serenading us with traditional carol/rap hybrid mixes. Complete with air guitar.

Johanna was with us for the last hour and a half, and in that time, she joined in on the Christmas Rap with  Abby, wrote a song about our booth to the tune of Frosty the Snowman, got mistaken as a dinner server, drank eight cups of water, fetched more water for a coughing gentleman, and completed several rounds of self-taught Irish Step Dancing.

By the time we got out of there at 6:30 p.m., I was beyond done and I won't lie, I kind of ditched my mother. I was like, see ya, Nance, I'm out, and I have a sneaking suspicion she had to clean up all by herself. Oh, she'll forgive me, but I still feel kind of bad. I was just hungry is all. I can't eat ham dinners with boxed mashed potatoes and gravy, that's why. (Allergies! Are super fun!)

Huh. I'd hoped to end this with myself not looking like a jerk, but I see that is not in the cards. Damn words! They're so unforgiving.

*Abby used to call crafts "craps" when she was a toddler. I think she was on to something, honestly.

**Approximately.

Friday "Art," Monday vs. Thursday edition

Monday. iPod Touch. Instagram filter.

Thursday. Big girl camera. No filter.

News flash: I found out yesterday that my ankle boots aren't all that great in the snow. Wet socks are kind of disgusting. Ah, well.

P.S. Sorry, I know we're photo-heavy this week, but you guys, I'm so tired. Too much writing. Too many deadlines. Too much reading Mara's book, which, incidentally, you should go download right now. And that's not my bias talking, either. It's fantastic.