A Tale of Ineptitude, In Coffee Cup Form

I have several simple loves in life.  One of them is hot coffee.  Not just lukewarm coffee, but coffee that starts out hot, and stays this way for as long as possible.  Because of this, I like to take my coffee with me in the morning in one of those nice insulated mugs.

Another simple love that I have in this life is the color red.  I like the color red in purses, wallets, recliners and couches (anything leather, really), and all appliances, among other things.  So, I was delighted to find a red insulated coffee mug at Starbucks a while back, so I bought it.  It looked like this:

There was even a bonus in that every purchase of this particular mug helped support treatment of children with AIDS in Africa.  So, it was my love of red merging with a good cause.  Who can argue with that?

Unfortunately, while I have several loves, I also have (more than) several weaknesses in my life, as well.  I like to call them ineptitudes, because that's such a nice, fancy word.  (Fancy words are a love, too.)  One of my biggest ineptitudes is leaving my possessions wherever I go.

Unfortunately, the love and the ineptitude collided one day last fall, and I left my beloved coffee mug behind at a sub job.  I have to admit that I realized this shortly after I left the job, but the classroom door was already locked, and not wanting to demonstrate my obvious substitute incompetence to the school office staff/custodian, I opted just to press on.

But I missed my mug, and lamented over its loss.  Fortunately, Jericho replaced the mug with another just like it at a Christmas present, which I of course loved. Then I had a red mug again.

Many weeks later, I walked in the school where I had lost the first mug, and saw the sub secretary drinking from my red mug.  Or I thought it might be mine.  I thought about trying to check this suspicion out by asking if she, too, like to help children with AIDS in Africa, but of course, I did not.  Instead, I worked up my nerve through the day, and before I left, I casually mentioned that her mug reminded me that I needed to go and check that other classroom for a lost mug just like the one she had.  She of course graciously replied that this was in fact my mug - that the teacher had brought it in to the office, and since no one claimed it for so long, she took it home and claimed it as her own.  However, she was happy to return it to its proper owner.

So, there was great rejoicing in mug world, and I had a red mug again.  Yes, you heard that right.  I once again had one mug, because in between Christmas morning and this day, I had left the one Jericho gave me somewhere.  Somewhere hidden and yet unfound. Sigh.

What's worse than this is how many mugs I have today as I write this.  Can you guess?  That's right - no red mugs.  What was lost (and replaced and lost) was found, and now it is lost again.  In a math problem, it would look like this:  1 - 1 + 1 - 1 + 1 - 1 = 0  Sad, but true.

The moral of this story?  Well, let's just say that disposable plastic cups are looking better and better.  Or, that if things continue as they have been, I'll be doing a lot of good in Africa.