It's no secret that I drink yesterday's coffee. I blame Robert Fulghum. Poor guy. I read several of his books while apparently at an impressionable age and I distinctly remember reading something about, "reviving a dead cup of coffee in the microwave." I can't find it right this second, but I know it was him. It might be in the chapter about meatloaf.
At any rate, I religiously carry a mug of either fresh or revived coffee to the bus stop. Always with Carrie. Sometimes with the boys.
Yesterday I also had the camera. Which means there was more than one occasion of "here, hold this" as said coffee mug was thrust into someone else's hands so I could snap a picture.
I couldn't tell if he was absorbing the heat or blowing on my mug, which I sure hope wasn't the case as he has an unshakable, gross cough, but how adorable is he? I can just picture him at 15 in the same pose but not awake and more slouchy.
So Dada handed Liam his mug:
This mid-month photo has been brought to you today by a liquid brewed from magic beans.
#AhhhCoffee
Speaking of, gotta stick mine back in the microwave...
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