I ran out of French vanilla creamer for my coffee, so I'm using milk and sugar. It reminds me of when I was a kid and would steal my mom's coffee when she wasn't looking. She never even used half and half, unless we were having company. I remember asking her why, once...she said she preferred her coffee with milk. But then, one time my aunt took us out to breakfast, and my mom ordered her coffee with half and half, and she took a sip and said how much she missed that taste...
She was always so good about not letting us know we were poor when we were little.
The morning of my 8th birthday, she woke us up really early and acted like we were doing this huge, fun thing...she had us pick out toys and clothes we didn't use anymore, while she set up a couple of tables in our driveway. We had a hastily-thrown-together yard sale all morning, and it was so much excitement seeing people pick out my toys for their little girls that I forgot it was my birthday until that evening.
I played with my sister and brother outside all afternoon, and then we got called inside for dinner.
My grandparents were there, and my dad (they'd been divorced almost a year by then).
And there was a birthday cake. Not even homemade, but a fancy one from the store with ladybugs and flowers just like I had asked for.
My aunt was the one who told me, years later, that Mom had called her early that morning, upset because she had paid bills and couldn't get me anything for my birthday. My aunt offered my mom money, but she said no, she would figure it out.
And she did.
I dunno why I'm wandering down memory lane this morning. Oh, right- coffee. Time for a refill.
