Ode to December

Wherein (for the first time ever) I didn't decorate for the holidays, nor wrap the cub's gifts because of my broken arm.  The cub and his friend joined me for dinner.  I bought him his first coffee maker.  He was thrilled.  He bought me really cool earbuds.  It was good to see him.  The Juncos arrived right on time.  We had a bit of snow. 

I saved up for an espresso machine and now my lattes are legit.  I'm obsessed.  I don't know how I lived without it all these years, though I did make a respectable mock latte.  I keep remembering the tiny Krups espresso maker I had in the 80s that disappeared in one of my moves.    

Our clinic microwave died when a coworker tried to nuke her lunch. I sent this email to the entire team to inform them, and enjoyed hearing the bouts of laughter throughout the day:

We gather here today to honor Mike the Microwave…faithful friend, tireless spinner, and the only member of the team who could make a frozen burrito feel warm inside.

Mike lived a full life, measured in beeps. He heated up leftovers without judgment, even when those leftovers really should’ve been thrown out. He faced splatters, spills, and rumor has it there were sparks between him and Alivia.

We remember his optimism: every reheat cycle, he believed, against all evidence, that maybe this time you’d actually take your food out before it got cold again.

Mike is survived by his siblings: Toaster, who insists he’s a “real” appliance; Refrigerator, who pretends not to know any of us; and Keurig, the flashy new cousin who’ll never live up to Mike’s legacy.

Rest in peace, Mike. May your spirit continue to warm our hearts… at least to medium-high.