Coffee with Chesterton, Flannery, and Fforde

“Graham is crying and begging me to read this to him. I keep explaining it’s for grownups. He just doesn’t understand. Poor guy.” I posted this to Facebook.

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Phenomenal book. Not for children. At all. Couldn’t be edited enough for little ears or little souls. It’s been an ordeal since last week. Graham wants the Humpty Dumpty Gun Book. I can’t and won’t acquiesce.

I ended up commenting that I wanted a coffee date with Jasper Fforde, Flannery O’Connor, and G.K. Chesterton. Is that an unrealistic goal? I know that two-thirds of them are dead. With the Lord…or in some sort of sleeping state until the dead in Christ rise? I go back and forth on this. When Graham presses me about Papa Bob, I say he is safe. That the Bible says 100% that Papa Bob is safe. And 100% that we will see him again. Anyway, I want coffee with these people. My friend says, “Unrealistic, you have three kids.” I was laughing so hard I was crying. Because it’s the truth! Even if I could gather living and dead authors at Starbucks, I couldn’t get away to go see them!

But let’s say I could. I would get a super large {I like to use obnoxious size names just to make the baristas think I don’t deserve their pricey brew}. Sumatra. Black. That’s my favorite at home. Sometimes I put a splash of almond milk in it, but usually black. I would sit down with my literary heroes and say, “Talk at me.” I don’t even want to converse. I just want to listen to brilliant, creative people make my brain flex.

This would be my mom vacation. As I caffeinate myself, just use big words. Or big concepts and little words. Or read your own writing. Or an encyclopedia. Or those jokes off Laffy Taffy wrappers.

A friend and I are going to get my first pedicure. I had my toenails painted for my wedding day. They were so bad I had to redo them. But I am going for a real pedicure. At a real salon. And we are going to Starbucks. Where I will drink a coffee not brewed at home. And if this friend really loves me, our literary trio will be there. Because I know she would also just pull up a chair and be talked at for an afternoon.

Two word nerd moms whose husbands will have our children. We may just faint…even if zero dead or living authors join us. Because pedicures, coffee, and talking at one another conversing will be bliss. I am already giddy thinking about it. And maybe Jasper Fforde will find himself in a Southwest Missouri coffeehouse. A girl can dream.

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One thought on “Coffee with Chesterton, Flannery, and Fforde

  1. […] eucalyptus in it. Which is one of my top ten favorite things in the world. Right up there with sex, coffee, polar bears, most fruits and vegetables*, and Coldplay’s Ghost Stories […]

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