It’s been well-documented that my coffee addiction is … substantial. Briefly on hiatus during my pregnancy, I was reunited with my beloved beverage after the baby was born, and now I’m back in the habit.
Since I work from our home office and I’m also the primary caregiver for BSparl, sleep is a hot commodity. Actually, I don’t get to sleep much, so the coffee is very much my friend these days. Work hard, play hard, drink much of the coffee.
The other day, I was out with the baby, running a few errands. I had to visit the post office, the grocery store, CVS … and Dunkin Donuts. I try to make my order sound fresh and new (versus something I say almost without thinking), and I leaned out the window to order into the drive through speaker. (Instead of into the garbage can, which is something I’ve done more times than I’d care to admit.)
“Hi!” Total joy. “Can I please have a medium iced coffee with cream and two Splenda?”
“Sure thing. Please drive up.”
So I drive up. But when I get to the window, there’s a little bit of confusion.
“Okay, so one coffee with milk and sugar, two doughnuts, and a bagel with cream cheese?” The boy attending the window had a bag of deliciousness in his hand. My stomach said “YES! YES. THOSE BELONG TO ME.”
I mentally punched myself in the stomach and said, “Oh, I only had a medium iced coffee. That was it.”
“No problem.” The kid put down the order that wasn’t mine and returned with a single iced coffee. “Okay, that’s two dollars and thirty-six cents.”
“Awesome.” I handed the money out the window. “Would you mind double-checking to see if that’s with Splenda, and not sugar? I’m diabetic, and I don’t want to end up with the wrong order.”
He paused. “Type 1?”
“Yes, type 1.”
“Yours is definitely Splenda. I’m positive.” He handed me my change. “My mom has type 1. For like, ever. How are you doing?”
This kid wasn’t any more than 18 years old. But the concern on his face was wise beyond his years.
“Good. I’m doing really well. I’ve had it since I was a kid.”
“My mom, too. She’s doing good. And she has me. And my sister. Is that your baby?” He waved at BSparl in the backseat, waving her chubby arms around and babbling.
“Yes. She’s almost a year old. It’s refreshing to see that our kids grow up to be nice kids.”
He smiled. “And that our moms weren’t always old moms. Have a good day. And I can’t wait to tell my mom I met another one like her.”
People with diabetes are everywhere. And so are the people who love them.
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*