This morning, after I dropped off Sophia at school, and before I dropped off Raphael at his Monday school, I swung through a drive through for a latte. When the lovely and blessed woman handed me my warm cup through the window, I clutched it to my chest and murmured, "Coffee. Oh coffee. You're the only one who understands me."
Raphael, sitting next to me and messing around with my phone, glanced over and said, "Mom. I think it's time to examine your relationship with coffee."
Being the loving and gentle mother that I am, I recognized this as an opportunity to open up dialogue on the subject, to encourage a free and open exchange of thoughts. And so I turned to my beloved son...
...and grabbed a fistful of his tshirt and growled in his face, "DO YOU WANT TO SAY THAT AGAIN, PUNK?"
(In case anyone is worried, Raphi found me nearly as funny as I found myself at that moment. Which is pretty darn funny.)