Morning Musings: Coffee Mugs, Batman, and Mark Twain

What do these things have in common? The gradual return of my health, apparently. It seems I like to string random topics into a cohesive whole to amuse myself, and laying in bed, recuperating, has inspired more randomness than usual.

I've been told I have a quirky brain. My response? 

"Thank you."

My favorite coffee mug

This past Christmas, we each received a mug bearing a fun quote - something from a movie or TV show, or simply a snarky saying. I have no idea where the wording on my mug comes from, but it makes me smile... every single morning... especially since contracting my most recent illness.

Did you know my mug has a Cockney accent? It has! Something like Michael Caine playing Alfred, Batman's butler. Granted, they don't use a silver tray, but when someone brings me coffee while I'm resting in bed, I can almost picture this:

Of course, my mug doesn't quote the Batman movie. It says, "Good morning. I see the assassins have failed." To which I silently add, "again." *internal smirk* 

Yes, I'm still here. Recovering, even. Amazing, right? 

"The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated." - Mark Twain

This is good. It's almost staggering the number of things piled up (literally), waiting for me to get back on my feet. It's true, everyone has pitched in and helped keep the household fed and clothed, but it's equally true some things remain invisible to eyes that are not my own. See that thing on the floor there? That thing that everyone has stepped over at least a hundred times? You and I are the only ones who have noticed it. Weird. 

Wait a minute. Maybe the others did notice it. Maybe they left it there as a signal to me that they needed me. Maybe, just maybe, that thing on the floor, begging to be picked up, is the Mom equivalent of the Bat-Signal. 

I shouldn't be surprised. I was the same way as a child. My mother didn't mind at all, however. I know she would have been bored if I had been a neat child. I made her feel needed. Yeah. That's what I was doing. *ahem* What a good child I was.

As Mark Twain once said, "My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it."

Anywhoo, my mug is now empty and I'm feeling well enough to go pick that thing up off of the floor. Take that, illness! You have failed. 

Again.