So I'm a little territorial.
No more than a dog... but probably more than, say... plankton.
I allow others to use my shit... however, there are certain objects I'll probably fight you for... like my toothbrush... my lipgloss/chapstick... my half-gallons of water that I remember to fill up and place in the fridge each night (we all know how that shit works out for me... especially during stressful times of my life... when the cold-sore from hell decides to pay me a visit like the fucking asshole it is)... stuff like that.
Staying with the "things I bring to my mouth" topic, I'm VERY defensive about my tea mug.
It's a fucking awesome mug. It's enormous. It comfortably fits 5 cups of liquid. It's cute with its blue little daisies dancing around in a white background. It was a gift.
It has a small chip on the lip because my mom was a jerk and bumped it with the damn blender.
But still, I love this mug.
Know who else loves my mug?
My dad.
I try to be cool about it, but each time I walk into the kitchen and catch him drinking out of my mug, I feel the stream rushing out of my ears.
Me: Heyyyy! That's MY mug, Dad!
(leave it to me to fight over a fucking mug)
Dad: Says who?
Me: Uh... everyone... in case the blue daisies don't give it away that this mug MAY belong to a female.
Dad: Well... then... which one's MY mug?
Me: Any other one in the cupboard... that huge black one with that one truck company's logo on it. No one touches that one.
Dad: But I like this one because it's so huge.
A couple of months back, Mom and I were having our little bonding time, shopping.
As she was busy in the dressing room, I found my way to the "Home and Kitchen" department.
I checked out the plates, and came upon the mugs. I found an enormous white mug with a giant black J drawn on it... and I was going to purchase it for pops, hoping the damn letter would make it clear that "Yo, this is your fucking initial... it's YOURS. Quit drinking out of my blue daisy cup!"
However, Mom convinced me not to, because according to her, we had more than enough giant mugs in the house.
When we were going to leave, some mugs with the zodiac signs (and their descriptions) caught Mom's eye.
Mom's borderline-fanatical Catholic and all... but she loves astrology... go figure.
We checked out the Virgo (Mom), Libra (D and Rafa), and the Pisces (me, obviously).
Mom didn't think buying Dad the giant J mug was worth the five dollars, but she went ahead and spent 15 bucks on three huge zodiac mugs we definitely didn't need.
Fast forward to today.
I was sitting at the kitchen table with Pops. I was enjoying some tea, and he decided he'd have some as well.
What mug did he grab? Mom's giant Virgo mug... which is even bigger than my blue daisy mug.
Me: Hey... that's Mom's mug.
(y vuelve la burra al trigo... I'm so fucking stubborn, and nagging, I know)
Dad: Uhhhhh! Where's MY mug?
Me: I was gonna get you one the other day, but Mom was all "No, he has one already."
Mom: Oh... I thought he did.
Dad: I like this one because it's HUGE! And it has a pretty lady drawn on it.
Me: ...and it's pink. Dad. I'm getting you a mug. One identical to that one. But... since you're a Capricorn, I'll get you that one. That mug is blue and everything.
Dad: I AM A CHRISTIAN!
Me: Yes Dad, you're a Christian... but also a Capricorn.
Dad: I. AM. A CHRISTIAN!
Me: Well, Christian, you really like that VIRGO cup.
...
He's getting a Capricorn cup unless that man decides to go to the store and buy himself his nice little Christian cup. Good luck finding that one.
No more than a dog... but probably more than, say... plankton.
I allow others to use my shit... however, there are certain objects I'll probably fight you for... like my toothbrush... my lipgloss/chapstick... my half-gallons of water that I remember to fill up and place in the fridge each night (we all know how that shit works out for me... especially during stressful times of my life... when the cold-sore from hell decides to pay me a visit like the fucking asshole it is)... stuff like that.
Staying with the "things I bring to my mouth" topic, I'm VERY defensive about my tea mug.
It's a fucking awesome mug. It's enormous. It comfortably fits 5 cups of liquid. It's cute with its blue little daisies dancing around in a white background. It was a gift.
It has a small chip on the lip because my mom was a jerk and bumped it with the damn blender.
But still, I love this mug.
Know who else loves my mug?
My dad.
I try to be cool about it, but each time I walk into the kitchen and catch him drinking out of my mug, I feel the stream rushing out of my ears.
Me: Heyyyy! That's MY mug, Dad!
(leave it to me to fight over a fucking mug)
Dad: Says who?
Me: Uh... everyone... in case the blue daisies don't give it away that this mug MAY belong to a female.
Dad: Well... then... which one's MY mug?
Me: Any other one in the cupboard... that huge black one with that one truck company's logo on it. No one touches that one.
Dad: But I like this one because it's so huge.
A couple of months back, Mom and I were having our little bonding time, shopping.
As she was busy in the dressing room, I found my way to the "Home and Kitchen" department.
I checked out the plates, and came upon the mugs. I found an enormous white mug with a giant black J drawn on it... and I was going to purchase it for pops, hoping the damn letter would make it clear that "Yo, this is your fucking initial... it's YOURS. Quit drinking out of my blue daisy cup!"
However, Mom convinced me not to, because according to her, we had more than enough giant mugs in the house.
When we were going to leave, some mugs with the zodiac signs (and their descriptions) caught Mom's eye.
Mom's borderline-fanatical Catholic and all... but she loves astrology... go figure.
We checked out the Virgo (Mom), Libra (D and Rafa), and the Pisces (me, obviously).
Mom didn't think buying Dad the giant J mug was worth the five dollars, but she went ahead and spent 15 bucks on three huge zodiac mugs we definitely didn't need.
Fast forward to today.
I was sitting at the kitchen table with Pops. I was enjoying some tea, and he decided he'd have some as well.
What mug did he grab? Mom's giant Virgo mug... which is even bigger than my blue daisy mug.
Me: Hey... that's Mom's mug.
(y vuelve la burra al trigo... I'm so fucking stubborn, and nagging, I know)
Dad: Uhhhhh! Where's MY mug?
Me: I was gonna get you one the other day, but Mom was all "No, he has one already."
Mom: Oh... I thought he did.
Dad: I like this one because it's HUGE! And it has a pretty lady drawn on it.
Me: ...and it's pink. Dad. I'm getting you a mug. One identical to that one. But... since you're a Capricorn, I'll get you that one. That mug is blue and everything.
Dad: I AM A CHRISTIAN!
Me: Yes Dad, you're a Christian... but also a Capricorn.
Dad: I. AM. A CHRISTIAN!
Me: Well, Christian, you really like that VIRGO cup.
...
He's getting a Capricorn cup unless that man decides to go to the store and buy himself his nice little Christian cup. Good luck finding that one.
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