Dear Cherry Coke,

You have always been a love of mine, I regret that I have not always loved you the way you deserved. I know at times I have felt a stronger love towards your big brother, Coke Classic, I am ashamed at how openly I have spoken about this love. I know that my actions hurt you deeply but you are too kind, too sweet, too cherry flavored to really say anything in your own defense. I should not take such advantage of your unwavering love and patience with me.

On this day, my sweet; cherry flavored love, I awoke with a migraine ( the neurological equivalent of getting kicked in the testes) and was near tears for much of my morning. I sent the good Saint Michael to the fridge to procure me my usual migraine elixir, an icy cold Coke Classic. Saint Michael did not return from the fridge with good news, he returned to me with a can of warm coke- it might as well have been no coke at all. Oh the despair, oh the agony, oh the warm bubbled horror of an unchilled Coke Classic.

When I finally felt well enough to eat some lunch, who is greeting me in the cafeteria with open arms? You are, my love, my Cherry Coke. How could I be so blind this whole time? Sure Coke Classic is shiny and sleek with it's flashy red can but my dearest Cherry Coke needs no flash. The simple soda fountain you are housed in holds the greatest treasure, syrup, fizzy water and ice chips. When those ingredients are put together in a styrofoam cup, well my day gets a little brighter. Birds sing a little louder, my office door gets knocked on a little softer and much less frequently.

Thank you, my sweet love, for sticking by me in spite of my obvious lack of judgement. Today, you are not just my sweet Cherry Coke, you are the soother of my weary soul, the easer of my migraine. Why you are the bubbly equivalent of 12 hours of sleep interrupted only by the sweet snuggles of my Saint Michael.

Ever lovingly,
Sarah

ps... Some one has got to tell Coke Classic we are taking a break, after all the time I have spent with him lately, I think it would be best coming from some one else he is close to. Maybe my sister Dandy or her sweet hubs, Jeff.

Just the way I like it

Today Saint Michael gave me a tasty surprise, lunch!
Saint Michael took the time to make me a sandwich, just the way I like it.

Two slices of plain old wheat bread, a little light mayo and ham. Perfection.

Wrap that bad boy up in a paper towel ( so it doesn't get soggy or smooshed) and stick it in a Target brand zipper bag ( no Ziploc for our frugal household! Our sammiches can suffer.) and there you have, my lunch. My lunch that filled my belly and gave my heart tinglies. Thanks Saint Michael! Me and the belly* thank you!

* Yes my belly speaks, it must in order to exude the kind of control over me it has. It always wants to eat, what is up with that?!