Those were the words of gingy, as I was balling my eyes up in my bedroom,  at the realisation I couldn’t do my planned trip to Costa Coffee.

I need coffee to function, I’ve never been a lover of it.. But now it’s 90% of my diet, the other ten percent being picking at a bag of crisps whilst making a bottle or chewing gum to keep my breath from stinking of coffee.

Today.. I had high hopes that me and Oscar were venturing out into town to buy lots of pointless and exciting crap for Christmas and… A posh overpriced  coffee.. Not my usual slap dash cold coffee at home, nope.. Some kind of mocha /espresso /latte amazingly creamy, oh so sweet, maybe with a touch of cream ( Maybe one of each of the three coffees) coffee.

Day in day out.. We do the same crap.. PAW PATROL, the playmat, the chair of neglect (as a good friend of mine rightly named the bouncer) dreaming about my old life of popping to town, leisurely strolling round overpriced clothes shops, perhaps grabbing a cheeky cheeseburger and even then maybe sitting in a coffee shop for a hot chocolate with whipped cream mm..looking through all my overpriced clothes, having a chit chat with my friends you know, with all my disposable money and spare time (Ha! What’s that?!)

Now just the thought of rushing into Costa with a sleeping baby in a pram and necking a hot coffee, feels like Christmas. SO when I realised I’d accidentally forgotten that I was doing my moms hair for a party at prime coffee time, (fucking ridiculous time to do hair anyway! It’s bloody coffee time) it ended in floods of tears from me.. In my bedroom… Over coffee ☕ . That my friends.. Is a moms life.