Speaking of Spilling Coffee...

I did a bad thing the other day. To be fair, it was early. I had been up since 5:20. My baby son (He heretofore shall be dubbed "O-Line," because he is big enough to be the entire offensive line for the Alabama Crimson Tide. Roll Tide! Woo-hoo!) had been screaming for the last 30 minutes/35 miles and we had just completed the first 60 miles of what was to be a 450+ mile trip, 9 hours according to Brenda, the lady who lives in our navigation system, although I'm not sure how accurate Brenda's timing is because I don't think she normally travels with 2 small children. Anyway, we stopped for a break at the Okahumpka Travel Plaza on the Turnpike. My oldest, whom I'll call "Calvin 'n Hobbes" because he is blonde and carries around a battered stuffed orange cat, was able to run off some energy and pretend to play video games. I fed O-Line some mangoes, we changed everyone's diapers and then it was time for my DH and me to get our breakfast. Have you been to this travel plaza? There's a Starbucks and a Dunkin' Donuts. Genius! We opted for DD and my DH took care of the ordering while I chased Calvin 'n Hobbes to the video games and held O-Line. DH came to get us, telling me, "We have to make our own coffee." What? What kind of a ghetto DD has you make your own iced coffee drink? I dragged Calvin 'n Hobbes away from the video game while my arm cramped from holding O-Line. DH handed me a large cup with a brown syrupy substance in the bottom. "That's your flavoring." Ugh. I proceeded to fill the cup halfway with cold coffee, then thought, "Crap! I should've put the ice in first!" I couldn't hold O-Line, hold my cup, and pull the ice lever all at the same time, so I balanced my cup under the ice dispenser and pulled the lever. As soon as the ice hit the cup, the cup flew off the shelf and coffee spilled EVERYWHERE. And what did I do? I left it. I didn't even look back to see how bad the damage was. I just calmly walked to the car, wiped down O-Line, buckled him in his car seat, and got into my own seat. My shirt, shorts, socks, shoes, underwear were soaked. At least it smelled good, unlike gas, which is what I usually spill on myself on long trips. DH and Calvin 'n Hobbes followed a few minutes later, bearing the gift of a coffee cooler from Starbucks. If I'm not banned for life from the Okahumpka Service Plaza on Florida's Turnpike, I think I'll choose Starbucks the next time I stop.