Monthly Archives: February 2014

Extra Securi-Tea

You always hear about people who can’t function until they’ve had their morning coffee. I’m one of them. I don’t take the extreme of “don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee”, but I need at least a sip before I can process anything major. As a mom, I’m pretty used to drinking a majority of my coffee cold, and not on purpose. It seems like as soon as I sit down to enjoy that first cup, someone yells to get out of their crib.

Regardless of all the coffee interference I experience in the morning, I’m still pretty serious about my coffee. Most avid coffee drinkers are. But what about tea? You never really hear anyone say “YouLipton Tea don’t want to be around me until I’ve had my tea.” There are no Garfield cartoons depicting him with a cup of tea and a disdain for mornings, likewise there are no internet memes about needing tea.

Coffee drinkers are always depicted as more violent and disturbed, should you take away their coffee. Tea drinkers seem more relaxed, calm, and much more willing to talk things out over a nice hot beverage.

We’ve been drinking a lot more tea in my house lately, mostly thanks to some head congestion and sore throats, and I had to purchase a new box the other day. Nothing fancy, just plain old Lipton regular tea.

s what I thought. Upon further inspection, I realized that this box of Lipton tea came with a unique new feature that could only be indicative of the secret subculture of tea drinkers.

 

 

Tea Lockbox

Yes that’s right. This tea comes with a secure lockbox. For securing your tea. In case it wasn’t secure.

I feel an overwhelming amount of security knowing that should someone break into my house, my tea is safely stored in a lockbox. Take my TV, jewelry, money, but don’t you dare touch my tea.

Obviously Lipton had to get feedback from their customers regarding this need for more tea security. This leads me to conclude that tea drinkers are not as sane as we might have previously regarded them. I may be a bit cranky without my coffee, but I’m not the least bit concerned about the safety and protection of my hot beverage of choice.

 

Like this post? Please leave me a comment and visit my website at www.nicholekanney.com

A “Load”-ed Question

I’ve been doing laundry for a lot of years. I really don’t find it to be a big deal.  Believe it or not, despite my OCD issues, I don’t do any kind of sorting. Everything just goes in the machine until it’s full and then I throw in some detergent, wash it on cold and call it a day.

My current washing machine was purchased for $50 in 2007 when Wally worked for Lowe’s. It still works great and has traveled through more states then some people ever will. It’s a trusty little thing, and hopefully (knock on this cheap Asian material my desk is made out of) it will last a little longer.

In our new house, it hasn’t been relegated to the basement, or stuck in some dingy corner of the house that no one wants to go in. It’s in a cute little laundry nook off the kitchen. Since she ran out of space on the fridge, Rory likes to decorate it with magnets. It’s just another part of the décor.

Usually, I never have to adjust the “Load Size” dial. I’ve actually never thought about it much.  The laundry basket is pretty much a “large load” and when it’s full I do laundry. The machine has load size setting that range from small to super.

It wasn’t until the other day, after washing a few of the couch pillows and something of Kendrick’s that I really had to adjust the setting. I filled the basin and threw in my detergent and as my hand began to turn the dial from “small”, I panicked.

I was pretty sure the amount of clothing I had in there constituted a large load. But then I noticed all these little lines between the size options. That’s right, there’s not just small, medium, large, extra-large, and super. There’s large, line line line line line, extra-large, line line line line line. You see where this is headed. Like a speedometer, there are individual gauges between the base settings.

load size

When exactly do you decide that it may be a hair above large? I mean even somewhere between large and extra-large is plausible, but two notches under that? I mean, if I add a sock do I turn the dial to the next line? How many lines do I add for a shirt?

I wasn’t feeling confident in my decision of just plain “Large” anymore. It was like I had just discovered a whole new world of possibilities. My goal is to get just to the line before “super”. I’m not sure I want to pass into the world of Super Laundry. I feel like that’s when Rainbows, and unicorns and bubbles start spewing from the machine and out pops that “Big Gay Al” character from South Park. “Super, thanks for askin’.”

I clicked the dial to what appeared to me to be a notch and a half above “large”. Better over-estimate right? What was that question that owl always asked?

How many socks does it take to get to the center of the next line? The world may never know.

Push Button for Stick Figure Dancing the Lawnmower

Nothing like waking up on a Sunday morning, desperate for a cup of coffee, only to realize you’re completely out of half and half, which by the way is not comprised of half of anything mixed with half of anything else, but that’s a story for another time. You could use milk, but it’s just not the same, and you really want that good fresh cup.

Cue my Sunday. Luckily, there isn’t anything in Richmond that isn’t within walking distance, like the convenience store at the end of my block. Despite the snow and wind, I put on my boots and bundled up, throwing a hat over my bed head. I was glad I slept in basic black pants that hid the fact that I was still technically in my pajamas. I started down the sidewalk in search of the Holy Grail in the form of a paper pint container.

The store is on the opposite side of the street and diagonal from my house, requiring me to cross two streets to get to it. No problem, right? Not necessarily. I get to the corner and see the sign that directs me to “push button for walk signal”.

 

push to walk

I stare at the black circular button in the center of a yellow box in the middle of the pole. I think, “Really?” I look at the cars stopped at the traffic light, making eye contact with their drivers, trying to determine if they are waiting for my inevitable decision.

If I don’t press the button, will the light never change? Will it change quicker if I press the button? Does the performance of the traffic light even rely on the button at all? I mean, who am I that I have been granted such power? Traffic control at the simple push of a button.

None of that is accurate. The button just triggers the red hand graphic across the street to change to an obviously racist (I mean why are all the people white?) depiction of a person walking when appropriate. That’s what it really does, right?

I’m still not convinced. I truly believe it’s some kind of hidden camera social experiment to see how many people fall for the button concept, thinking it has some bearing on anything at all. Think of it as the twist in the next M. Night Shyamalan film. For 90 to a hundred minutes you spend thinking traffic is moving steadily and the light is changing at a predetermined time. A pedestrian approaches, pushes the button, and the camera pulls back to see a group of scientists on another planet recording how many people push the button.

Not me. I’m not falling for it. I really really really like to follow directions, but I also don’t like to be the punch line to another person’s joke. As I stand on the corner of 5th and Main, the Village Pantry sign looming not so far in the distance, my creamy grand prize so close, I find myself at the intersection of my own personal anxieties vs. the socio-morality of basic human existence. To press or not to press….That is the question.