So I was stepping into my closet yesterday (which is worth a Messy Monday post all on its own…it’s quite treacherous right now), and I had to step over this. I did a double take, because my brain subconsciously screamed, “What is THAT?”
Moldy coffee is what that is. From one of my husband’s MANY coffee cups that get left in our bedroom, which is also our home office. Actually, let me correct that. This is not my husband’s coffee cup. It’s MY coffee cup, to be used only for hot tea. One we bought for ME on our 10-year anniversary trip to Disney World. He chose Mike Wazowski, I chose the Cheshire Cat. Why is it in here, growing coffee mold when I don’t drink coffee?
That’s a great question.
Well, I’ll let you guess who’s going to clean it.
Rachel is a writer, poet, editor and musician who is raising five (going on six) boys to love books and poetry and music and art and the wild outdoors—all the best bits of life. She shares her fiction and nonfiction writings over at her blog, and, when she’s not buried in a writing journal or a new song or a kid crisis at home, she enjoys reading Cormac McCarthy, Toni Morrison, William Faulkner and the poetry of Rilke. Follow her on Twitter @racheltoalson.
