For those of you who don't know all the particulars about me - I work in the same building as my husband (same floor, in fact) and we are both addicted to starbucks. (According to Mint.com, we should own one by now.)
We both didn't get our normal amount of sleep last night because Mateo had some issues at about 2 am -- nightmare, flooded diaper, thirsty or all three rolled into one very upset little boy, we're not sure. My husband took the first shift of trying to get him back to sleep, which included changing the crib sheets and mattress protector, plus changing the soggy diapered boy, plus giving him some milk, and I took the second shift, which included lots of snuggling and more milk. I've been up since 3:20 am. Good times. But I still think I won out on this scenario.
Anyhoo. So we're both a tad tired and headed downstairs to the Starbucks to get some caffeine.
This conversation ensued:
Husband: I would like a this and a that.
Girl: A frozen this?
Husband: Yes, thanks.
Guy comes out of the bathroom and goes behind counter. (Yes, he works there.)
Guy: So you're coming in here and telling her to make you drinks, I see.
Husband: Well, you know how it is.
Guy: Do I come to your house and ask you to make me a burrito?
My husband is obviously Mexican (or Filipino, depending on what type of person you're used to looking at).
We're having breakfast burritos for dinner tonight. My husband is making them (but more because I was complaining about not having enough time to make dinner and take a walk with my boys and get some exercise).
I wonder if the Starbucks guy will show up.