You're Not Going to F-ing Believe This

The other day I- No, someone broke my fucking cup.

Yes, that cup.

I want to call it my $5000 cup but I haven't gotten the hospital bill from the last week's visit so I'm not sure what I will call it. For now, I'll refer to it as Cup II.

It was quite literally hours after posting about the demise of my first cup. It's taken me a couple of days to write about it. I was strangely upset about the whole thing that night. Nothing a couple (three) vodka and diet tonic's and a stern look from my annoyed husband couldn't cure, though.

"Why are you getting so upset? It was only cup a cup?!" the tall guy said,  AS IF IT WERE REALLY ONLY A CUP! Jesus, I mean what world is he living in??

I can't say for sure why it was so upsetting but I can say the event occurred as if it were in slow motion. The tall two year old grabbed Cup II from the middle of the kitchen table with her eerily long, orangutan-like arms and began to drink, then shake, then drop Cup II directly on the floor. 

And that's when I lost it. 

I'm not sure exactly what I said, I'm not violent so I don't hit/kick/punch kids/husband/dog physically but probably emotionally, yeah, I'd say, yeah, I do that from time to time. I think I blacked out the specifics from that night (or I just blacked out entirely after the V& T's mentioned above) but I'm guessing I gave the kids a verbal sort of slap. Why freak out on both kids and not just the one that did it? I don't fucking know. They were both there, they were all, like, looking at me and everything. Besides, if the little one didn't break it that night, there's an excellent chance the big one would have broken it later on anyway. 

Besides, I already said, "I lost it" so just give it a rest already.
(Psst- that was kinda a verbal slap- see, not so bad, eh? Just a little sting. No scar.)

Anyhow, I always know when I lose my shit in front of the husband/kids/dog because they get all quiet and avoid eye contact with me for a while. The dog is the only one in the house smart enough to 1) not argue 2) make herself scarce. I knew the tall guy was right because I really shouldn't have been that upset about the cup. It wasn't even worth $5000. It was probably more like six or seven hundred dollars, max.

I'm guessing the only reason I was that upset was because I think I thought by writing about it earlier that day, I had sort of purged myself of the negative emotions attached to the loss of the $5000 cup, the day I had to take the little kid to the ER alone because my husband was out of town and most importantly, it really was (another) awesome cup.

To be fair, I really should be counting my blessings right now because if you remember my fist post about my $5000 cup, you'll know that just the lid broke. What I did not mention is that I kept the bottom (also known as the cup part) of the original $5000 cup. And as luck would have it, when that certain little someone in my household accidentally dropped Cup II on the kitchen floor, it was only the bottom part that cracked. 

And so....

Yes, I still have a cup. 

I used the still-intact bottom portion of my $5000 cup along with the lid of Cup II to make one still, totally ok working, lidded, clear plastic, totally awesome cup. PLUS, I now have TWO kick-ass blue plastic straws!

I shall call it Super Cup.

And I will not delude myself into thinking that I will treat this one differently, I shall not. 

And I will not allow myself to imagine years together, instead I will cherish the simple moments with Super Cup.

And I will not, for a moment think I can keep the hands of an especially tall two-year old off of any of my stuff, much less my beloved Super Cup.

Instead, I shall look forward to the day where, because of some unpredictable "accident" at the hands of a two and a half year old, I can shop for another cup- perhaps one of stainless steel, at the nearest Starbucks.