My loyal coffee cup has finally given up the ghost. The coffee cup that I bought in the Small City near Blackrock when I was pregnant with Poppy. It was extra-large--crucial given my chronic lack of sleep in the past two years--extra-wide, and, well, mine.
I dropped it this morning when I was taking it out of the dishwasher. It hit the door of the dishwasher, but didn't seem to sustain any damage. I had my first cup of blessed coffee, took a firm grip on my coffee cup to get up for the second one, and . . .
At least it didn't break while I was drinking my coffee, thereby depositing sharp pieces of ceramic in my coffee or, like, slicing my lips.
Good old coffee cup. Loyal to the end.
I had to have my second cup in Charlie's dinosaur mug. The dinosaur skeletons become visible when hot liquid is added to the mug.
Whimsical, but not big enough.
Luckily, we're leaving for Blackrock next week (I can't think about this yet, or I will succumb to the overwhelm), so I can add another coffee mug to the long list of things to look for at a thrift shop while I'm there.
In the meantime, I'll be having my coffee in a sub-par cup and mourning the loss of my faithful old companion.