[This was published on motzei Shabbat]
“I’m so hungry.”
It came from somewhere deep within the mini-van.
“I’m so hun–gry.”
How could this kid be hungry? Just forty minutes prior, my stocky three-year-old had packed away three slices of French toast, a container of kiwi-strawberry yogurt, and a sippy-cup of milk.
With the ever-constant pressure to get the older kids to school before the second bell, turning the car around was simply out-of-the-question. Much to Peach’s consternation. A hastily-offered trip to Starbucks, however, was just the thing as Peach eagerly agreed to grab some “oytmeal” from Starbucks after the first drop-off.
Man, does that boy love his “oytmeal.” Sweet brown sugar, tart dried fruit, crunchy nuts. He says that it makes him “feel cozy all the way inside.”
What set this particular outing apart from other Starbucks pilgrimages was that, in lieu of his usual chocolate milk chaser, Peach insisted on ordering coffee.
Coffee? “When did you start drinking coffee?”
“You let me taste coffee. Once. I like it.”
Oh. My bad.
And as we enjoyed our morning indulgence seated in overstuffed, leather chairs, a passerby eyed me with suspicion.
Come on, lady. It’s not as if I’m encouraging my kid to mainline.
Before I had a chance to respond, my child turned up his sweet face and innocently replied,
It’s a latte.