The other day my daughter, Lyla, and I were at Starbucks fueling my caffeine and sugar addictions, when suddenly Lyla starts pointing out the window and saying, “Mama! Mama!” She was so excited, but for the life of me I could not figure out what she was pointing at. She’s only 18 months old, so often our communication is akin to platform flip-flops: confusing at best.
First I tried the “What do you see out there?” tactic. Airplane? – No. Doggie? – No. Homeless person pushing a shopping cart that you think has a baby inside? – No, No, No! So I switched tactics. Perhaps she is wondering where her dad is. Sometimes she gets our names confused. And in her defense, I had just finished working out and was sweaty and more than a little manly looking. So I said, “No honey, Mama is right here. Papi is at work, but we will see him later tonight.” She looked at me like I was an idiot (is it possible to be embarrassed in front of your one-year-old?) and began pointing even more emphatically out the window. “Mama! Mama!”
Lyla was starting to get frustrated, and I was starting to get desperate. So I picked her up and walked to the window saying, “Show me what you are talking about, honey.” But when we got to the window, instead of pointing outside, she began pointing to the Starbucks logo on the window. “Mama!” she said with a smile. For a moment I looked between the logo and my daughter in pure puzzlement. Yes, I do drink enough coffee for her to equate me with the beverage, however, usually it is not from Starbucks. “Mama!” she said again, pointing at the logo then stroking my hair. I had never really looked at the logo before, so I studied it for a minute. Suddenly it hit me, she thinks the logo is a picture of me. So I said, “Oh! This looks like me? This looks like mama?” And she smiled like the sun and said, “Yeah!” so happy that I had finally stopped being a total idiot and understood what she was trying to tell me.
It’s actually not a bad compliment. The Starbucks logo is based on a 16th century Norse woodcut of a mermaid or Siren to go with Seattle’s nautical roots. (I looked this up, I don’t actually know this much useless Starbucks information. Just other kinds of useless information.) Starbucks chick is kind of a babe. This is solid proof that to your children, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. So I was happy. However, I think my daughter will be sorely disappointed that I am not actually Mrs. Starbucks when she is filling out those loan applications for college. Maybe I will just tell her that I drank away our fortune.