crying over spilled coffee: tale from a true klutz...

I am a klutz.  I drop things, stub my toes and trip over things occasionally constantly.  It is an annoying, messy and sometimes painful part of who I am.  Despite trying very hard to avoid spills they just happen and happen regularly.

This is the mug that my mom gave to me when I became a mom myself.  The mug that has held the coffee that has carried me through countless mornings after sleep deprived nights.  The mug I have sipped from every single day since arriving home with our tiny little bundle of George. A large mug for copious amounts of caffeine, fitting perfectly in my hand and the caricature bearing a striking resemblance to my morning self.

Today, I put my coffee mug on the counter and set about the task of washing dishes and cleaning up the kitchen from breakfast. Deciding that I had enough coffee for the day, I picked up my mug to spill the last of the liquid and wash it out.  Maybe there was too much soap on my hands or maybe it was just my klutzy moment of the day but CRASH! in an instant it was out of my hands, coffee splashing a mess everywhere, and broken.

Now, sadly, this is my poor mug:

The klutz strikes again, leaving me mugless and not a happy camper. *sigh*