Clearly, I have addictive tendencies, because in addition to my Facebook “issue,” I have another problem. Starbucks.
I spend way too much money at Starbucks. It’s ridiculous. Who pays $4-$5 for a cup of coffee? What am I getting for the money? Some steamed milk, espresso shots and flavored liquid sugar. I mean, syrup.
So, what is it about that place that keeps luring me in? Why don’t I take all of the money that I spend on caramel macchiatos and buy something to improve the “slobby chic” look that I sport each day? Here are five reasons:
The Unlimited Supply of Caffeine
I’ll be honest. I gave up coffee during pregnancy, so for a while, I functioned like a normal human being without it. But after my daughter was born, I regained my dependency on caffeine. Once again, I suffer from headaches without coffee.
So why don’t I just stay home and brew my own coffee? You can’t see me, but I’m making a face. I spend my days getting food and drinks for other people (a.k.a. the kiddos). To me, it’s worth looking like a hobo to have someone bring me a drink for a change.
The Smell
I’m a stay-at-home mom (SAHM). I do my best to keep the house clean and fresh. But in the battle against stink, I’m losing. Each day, I play two games: “What’s that smell?” and “Where is it coming from?” Is it food? Is it old diapers? Is it small animals? I have no idea. I think the kids are secretly stashing crap under the floor boards. Why? Either to get me to take them out of the house or to drive me crazy.
They’re successful on both fronts. I can stay home with them and remain ensconced in the stench of decomposition. Or I can go out in to the world, see real adults, and inhale the aroma of freshly ground coffee at Starbucks. It’s no contest. Coffee beats decomposition.
The Greeting
My children are adorable. They really are. But the way they greet me each morning leaves something to be desired. My four-year old son growls at me. I didn’t think I’d have to deal with this for another ten years, but yep. He’s already a cranky nightmare when I have to wake him up for school. My one-year old daughter smiles until I place her on the changing table. Then she winds up to bite, slap or kick me in the face. For some reason, she prefers to sit in her own filth.
When I go to Starbucks, no one growls at me. Someone actually smiles without physically assaulting me. It’s a refreshing change.
The Language
As a SAHM, I don’t get to travel much anymore. I mean, my kids watch Barney and during the past season, that dopey purple dinosaur has been visiting different countries. But he still speaks in English, so I don’t consider that foreign language immersion. When I go to Starbucks, I get to pretend that I’m visiting a foreign country. And not just any foreign country. A really snooty foreign country where they treat you like garbage if you don’t speak their language.
For those of you who don’t know, Starbucks has its own language. It’s called Bux-ese. I’ve spent the past decade studying it, so I’m fairly fluent. I can order a grande, nonfat, no foam, extra drizzle, caramel macchiato like a native. So see, kids. It pays to stay in school.
The “Crappy to Happy” Hour Shift
The social calendar at our house includes a daily event called “Crappy Hour.” Everyone is invited, but the only people who show up are my son, my daughter and me. It involves a lot of blatant defiance, yelling and tantrums. My husband manages to leave the house right before it starts. His excuse is work, but I have my doubts. I think he’s just going to Starbucks.
Once I manage to drop my son off at school without pulling the hair out of my head, I have thirty precious minutes before I have to rush my daughter back home for the morning nap. Apparently, I’m not the only one with this window of opportunity. Sometime after nine in the morning, a herd of stroller-pushing SAHM’s descends on the local Starbucks. All of us have the same frazzled look. We just survived Crappy Hour. It’s time for Happy Hour. Or Happy Half Hour. Whatever it is, we’ll take it.
A Writing Mama's Journal 