Peggy’s prompt---the coffee was cold

Peggy’s prompt---the coffee was cold

The coffee was cold by the time we got back from the emergency room. Luckily, the coffeemaker was on a timer and turned itself off, otherwise we might have come home to scorched coffeepot, or worse yet, a house fire. As if we didn’t have enough troubles already. First the scene at the school yesterday, where Marty, the eight year old screamed at the principal that he didn’t do it, although it was never very clear exactly what it was that he didn’t do. Then Joe calls this morning from the side of the freeway—he’s had a flat and is waiting for Roadside Assistance. Can I come and get his laptop and take it to his office for his assistant to start scheduling all the calls he needs to make? Sure, I say, whatever. Then, the thing with Teresa, the two year old, in the kitchen. I was pretty sure that she was just pulling one of her little tantrums, where she holds her breath until she turns blue, but something said no this is different, so I did the Heimlich on her and sure enough she hacked up a piece of apple. She must have found it on the floor. I don’t know where else she would have gotten it. Anyhow, I thought I’d better take her in to be checked out, just in case. And she’s fine. Unhappy, but she’s fine. I’m not fine, though. I was just about to have my first morning cup of brew when she started the blue thing and by the time I got her dressed for the ER and stopped by to get Marty’s laptop and went to the ER and came home, the damn coffee was cold. Sometimes you just can’t catch a break.