S'mores and Sandra (Or Reason #483928 Why My Mom Is Better Than Yours)

I'm an only child. My parents tried to teach me to share, but let's face it, I didn't have to do it very often so the practice is hard for me sometimes. This flaw has followed me into adulthood, and even before I finish this post, I'm reminded of one I wrote a few years ago. But we'll get to that.

I don't splurge on myself for little things. I don't buy soft drinks when I go to dinner unless there's a headache involved or someone else is paying. I like store brands.  And I certainly don't buy luxury items like coffee creamers. Except.....

During the holiday season, there's this one glorious product called Hershey's S'mores creamer. And it's delightful. It's like the perfect blend of vanilla and chocolate in a coffee mug. It's just splendid. I had a precious bottle of the stuff that would be just enough to get me through the holiday coffee at work, so I put my initials on the top of the bottle, wrapped it in a Target bag and put it in the fridge at work.

Yesterday morning, I went to make my coffee. And the bottle was suddenly gone.

Someone. Drank. My. Coffee. Creamer.

Correction. The whole office drank my coffee creamer.

To say I was upset is an understatement. And then I realized I'd become THAT person. The adult who gets upset cause someone stole her sandwich from the community kitchen.

I'm not sure what hurt worse: the fact that my coffee creamer was gone or the fact that I was now a bitter 8-5 employee upset over someone stealing my coffee condiment. It was a low moment.

I ranted for a solid five minutes to my mom on the way home from work. "Why in the world would you take someone's coffee creamer? I mean, it's mine! It was in a bag! Is NOTHING sacred anymore? I don't like anyone enough to pay for someone else to enjoy my delicious S'mores beverage in the morning. I can't afford to supply the whole office with International Delights!!!! I can barely afford it myself!"

And then my mom proved for the 4,504,493,360,489,125 time that's she infinitely cooler than anyone else's mom.

The next day, my mother presented me with the following:

She'd bought me not one but three bottles of creamer, all in various flavors. On each bottle, including the newly bought and never opened S'mores creamer, she'd put my name in big bold letters all over the container. Katie Smith. Katie's. KATIE. Everywhere you look, there's my name, clear as day. That way, she said, if someone pulled it out of my bag, they would see my name and maybe feel a little guilty for taking the single poor girl's coffee creamer. But, to show me that sharing is a good thing, she'd labeled one bottle with things like: For Office Use, To Share, Enjoy Everyone!

Leave it to my mom to make turning into a bitter adult a little more bearable.

S'mores creamer anyone? I'll give you some if you ask. I'm not stingy. I'm just possesive.

It's the only child in me.