Sweet, honeyed amber
Sun-kissed, intoxicating
Nectar of the gods

During a recent afternoon of errands, The Boy and I stopped for lunch. I usually drink plain iced tea, but this day was Hades Hot and the lure of a tall, cold glass of sweet tea was too great.

After lunch we hit the grocery store. Exiting the car, I grabbed my tea to bring with me.

“I don’t think you can take that in there,” Boy cautioned.

Before answering, I took a long, slow drag on the straw, all cool like from the corner of my mouth.

“They can have my tea when they pry it out of my cold, dead hand,” I vehemently countered.

“You’re a weirdo.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

* Haiku Friday is hosted by Lou at LouCeeL.

17 thoughts on “Weirdo

  1. My son said he liked that I am weird. Up til then I didn’t realise I was weird, I am quite young to have an eleven year old and I presumed I was cool (to four and six year old I apparently still am) but I am not. I am weird. I think that’s cool.


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