Zack stared at me with one eyebrow raised so high I thought it was going to get altitude sickness.
Once his quizzical look became so perplexed that I was unable to ignore it, I finally answered: “It was Dad’s.”
“OOOH.” He said, giving me the most emotive response I’d heard from him in weeks. “I was so confused.”
The item that was causing all the ruckus was an empty Starbucks cup in my car’s cup holder. Zack was right to raise an eyebrow at it for more than a few reasons. 1.) I don’t usually allow trash to stay in my car. I take it in the house and throw it away when I get home. 2.) I’m not really a Starbucks person. 3.) When I do go to Starbucks I get herbal tea because I don’t drink caffeine. 4.) The cup in my cup holder had a spot of dried coffee on the lid.
When he first noticed the cup, he did a double take. Then, looking closer, he saw the dried spot of coffee and looked at me as if I was an alien from an unknown planet. He picked up the cup, smelled the lid, determined it to have been filled with coffee, and that brings us right back to the beginning of this post. Zack’s right eyebrow trying to jump out of the Jetta’s sun-roof because of the internal trauma that ensues when you’re pretty sure you know every single thing about a person, and then you find out that you might be wrong.
He wasn’t wrong, though. He just forgot that my dad likes lattes.
