Blogging Like I've Never Blogged Before

Friday, December 23, 2005

This past weekend I had brunch with Stat Boy from PTI. This was very exciting. Tania is friendly with Stat Boy's ladyfriend, so we got the invite. Stat Boy was really cool and didn't point out any errors I made, so that was nice. I wanted to call him Stat Boy, but since I was in his home and didn't know him very well, I felt I shouldn't. But then Tania noticed that it said "Stat Boy" on his Christmas stocking. I still didn't call him Stat Boy, though. Turns out he is a Jersey boy. We talked Central Jersey and watched the Colts lose.

So I'm in this coffee shop/bakery last weekend getting some coffee. There is a woman in front of me who has her son plopped up on the counter. He is looking at all the muffins and other baked goods, and the mother is telling him, "Mommy is going to get a pumpkin muffin." Then the kid says something stupid because he's a kid and I can't understand him. He was two.

Anyway, they get to ordering, and I must have missed an earlier conversation between mother and son. The mom says "I'd like a large coffee and a pumpkin muffin." Then she says to her son, "Tell the man what you want." So he goes, "I wanna muffin! Punkin' muffin!"

Here is where I found out I missed an earlier conversation. The mom looks startled and says, "I thought you said you wanted a croissant?" He replied, "Muffin!" She says, "Honey, didn't you say you wanted a croissant? You don't want us both to get pumpkin muffins, do you?" Now he starts to cry. And she says, "OK, pumpkin muffin." And he stopped crying.

Now, I know that there is a sentiment out there that you shouldn't baby-talk to your kids, but you gotta draw the line here, mommy. HE IS TWO! Here was the earlier conversation I must have missed:

Mommy, I am hungry for a buttery and flaky pastry. Is there such a thing?

Why, yes honey. It is called a 'croissant'.

Mmm, that sounds delicious. Let's go get one, Mommy! And you can get your coffee that you so enjoy on Sunday mornings.


Oh, mommy, before we do go, can you please clean this crap out of my pants. It seems I've done it again. I'm two. I crap my pants.

I just couldn't believe how shocked she looked when he had changed his mind. Like it was so crazy to her for a two-year-old to be impulsive.

Hmm. What else have I got for you today?

I love my lady lumps.

What a great song that is. I imagine it is a very inspiring song for women.

I was at a Starbucks recently using one of the many gift cards I seem to have accumulated. When the guy swiped the card, there seemed to be some sort of error. He put the card down on the counter, not really close to me, so I assumed he still needed it. He calls over someone else -- what are they called? Baristas. So these two baristas are messing with the receipt provider. I've already got my coffee in hand, so I asked "Did it not go through? Do you need to swipe it again?" Barista number 1 looks at me and says, "It went through, but don't you want your receipt?" For my $1.90 cup of coffee? No thanks. You keep it. I was reminded of the Mitch Hedberg bit with doughnuts and receipts.

I bought a doughnut and they gave me a receipt for the doughnut... I don't need a receipt for the doughnut. I give you money and you give me the doughnut, end of transaction. We don't need to bring ink and paper into this. I can't imagine a scenario that I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. To some skeptical friend, Don't even act like I didn't buy a doughnut, I've got the documentation right here... It's in my file at home. ...Under "D".
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