Shell game

I reconsider my ban on straws. [translation = drinking straws] They are no longer permitted to drink every drink [translation = beverage] with a straw regardless of temperature or content. No longer will I need to explain that although they are drinking hot chocolate that a straw is compulsory, not bizarre. Enough of this lip closure hogwash. [translation = jaw muscle strengthening technique] I am single handedly responsible for three life times worth of disposable plastic straws. Admittedly as yet, they are short life spans, but threatening to be terminated prematurely. I need gain control of this environmental crime.

But in punishment for such an arbitrary rule change on my part, I now have to endure the sight of them missing their mouths on regular occasions. Additionally, the increase in laundry is another punishment to the rule changer.

I mean! How can you miss your mouth? It’s not as if it relocates itself somewhere else about your person without warning? It’s a permanent fixture. If it were there this morning, it is likely to still be there later in the same day. Possibly, if you’re very lucky, it will still be there the next day, and every other one thereafter.

Toddlers and others with ‘Learner’ plates, are permitted to have a few accidents, but those of us advanced beyond the age of five, should accept that this is a given.

I blame speech therapy myself, all this multitasking isn’t good for children such as mine. They can talk, they can drink, but not both at the same time; it’s too distracting, too confusing. It they continue to try to talk and drink at the same time surely they’ll all drown? There again, if they keep missing their mouths and filling their laps instead, perhaps I am worrying unduly.

There is no hidden agenda, your cake hole [translation = mouth] is in the middle of your face. There is no conspiracy theory here. What is the problem? Why are you making such difficulties for yourselves?

I am exasperated to the point of wrath, driven to an early grave: “here lieth a woman buried beneath a multitude of failed campaigns, and far to many plastic straws that are non biodegradable.’

I stomp away from the table to make a quick cup of coffee to restore my sanity. The coffee gurgles. My body moves on automatic pilot, a smooth, efficient flow of movement. I grab the carton from the fridge, line up the cup, but my brain fails to register as I miss and pour the milk into the sink.