Yeah, I'm off the stuff too. Diabolical, it is. Too good.
Regarding coffee, my best friend at school had a coffee 'stain' on his upper torso that looked a lot like a topographic map of Italy. He suffered for years, those tender years of childhood, with shame and embarrassment. Awful. But I loved him anyway. He got used to it eventually.
The ones who raised him cared more about themselves than they cared about his welfare. That's a gross understatement and I can say that because I was in the fold and witnessed their true nature. His mother was a real bully. The coffee spill was accidental, I hope. The same kind of accident we see time and time again, even today. These horrendous, completely avoidable burns suffered by toddlers are not at all uncommon.
Hot things and kids don't mix. Crims and kids don't mix either yet we see these situations like the one in my post, and much much worse, wherever we care to look. This is all coming to a head and that's a good thing. I see this rubbish all the time, sometimes even from my lounge room window, and it breaks my heart every time. Spend some time in Casualty and you'll get the drift, as a visitor though. Stay upright.
Those at your coffee shop may care more about their bottom-line than they do about your welfare, but I wouldn't make that judgement on a hunch. Desperate people are prepared sometimes to hurt themselves just so they can pocket some compensation but accidents
do happen. And those crappy paper-cups they dole out are a real deathtrap. I'd just be thankful that we've been warned - try and look on the bright side.
I know where you're coming from - I really do - and you have my utmost respect. Raising kids ain't easy. Childhood
should be fun and hassle-free. Your childhood experiences are a lot like mine I imagine, in some ways. I was a real thrill-seeker too, often on the razor's edge, and sports obsessed.
However, one of my most vivid memories is of the sound my head made when it hit the concrete in a local park. It echoed for such a distance people 150 + yards away turned immediately towards me to see what all the commotion was about. It was like a gunshot or a thunderclap.
I'd come off the top of an eight-foot ramp, that should never have been built, at speed - a stupid, badly engineered, virtually unridable steel Council sponsored skateboard ramp, one of many that were consequently torn down not long after my undoing. This was in the latish eighties.
I determined that I'd sit up all night, bought two longnecks of beer, one for the googie egg bursting like an alien outta my skull. I was fearful that, if I went to sleep, I may never wake up again. We treat concussion differently these days - maybe we're making some progress, praise be to grog. Sleep, it is a blessed thing, especially when you've been hammered by the planet.
If it occurred today, I'd have been wearing a stack hat, without doubt - eminently sensible, trust me. And there'd be no worries, there would've been no lump whatsoever on this ol' noggin of mine, the beer would still be in the ridgy didge waiting for better daze, and
nobody would be the wiser