No. Not pregnant.

And yes, there are still many blog posts to come about my London adventures. But first, a funny story.

A few months back Adam and I were joined by my family in New Orleans for a long weekend of fun. Fittingly this fun started at Pat O’Brien’s to partake in a New Orleans tradition: The Hurricane.

Hurricanes at Pat O'Briens

Hurricane’s are just that, they start out pretty awesome only hinting at their destructive power until WHAM you’re there, in the storm wondering why you didn’t evacuate with the rest of ’em. Enter the Eye and you’re feeling good, you can appreciate the power and beauty of the storm right before…WHAM round two hits you, probably just as you’re walking home, or standing up to use the facilities to remind you that a Hurricane is a force to be reckoned with.

And you never go back for seconds.


Hurricane dos

Cue the babysitter. The friendly bartender who was serving us had plenty of funny stories to keep us entertained, you know, just in case the Hurricanes, actual deluge of rain or people watching was too dull. As he’s watching us responsibly drink our beverages (i.e. not throwing them back) he says, with a ton of snark in his voice, “you need a babysitter”.

As he said this to my sister, the youngest of our group, I immediately jump to the conclusion that he’s made some sort of derogatory comment…even if it doesn’t quite make sense. (Remember the Hurricane now…)

He then pulls out a second cup, and after wrapping a napkin along the inside of the cup, neatly fits the first inside the second. Voila! Your hand doesn’t melt the ice in your drink, and the condensation that was once putting you at risk for a party foul is now a worry of the past. We were amazed by this revelation in technology and immediately requested our own babysitters.

Fast forward to this morning when Adam and I grabbed some coffee from our local coffee shop. I grab my cup and immediately set it down – coffee was so hot I could feel my skin turning red through the cup.

Side note: Adam held his cup just fine and wonders how I can be such a temperature wimp.

But, seriously, coffee was scalding! So I ask for a coffee sleeve…which they were out of. The owner of the shop then immediately takes my cup and puts it into a second cup to protect my wimpy little hands and gives it back with a smile.

I’m amazed. The improvisational spirit of the human race will never be quenched! And if it’s ever in danger…well, someone give it a babysitter.

The Babysitter has come full circle. From obnoxiously early drinks in NOLA to early morning coffee in Charlotte.

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