On not giving a fudge and my husband’s nonchalance

Tonight we hopped on the car and went on a little road trip. My kids who were already in their PJs and tattered sleep wear opened the windows and screamed their heads off.

My toddler who’s been indoors all week kept pointing at the lights, the buildings, the trucks, the cars, motorcycles. She was so delighted by the change of scene.

With no idea where to go or what do to, we ended up in a Starbucks branch we haven’t been to. It was located alongside a very busy highway, surrounded by posh offices.

Needless to say all the people there were in their office clothes, some had their laptops, some were dressed so nicely with their partners on a date!

So when I saw the people through the glass wall, I took a step back. I looked up at my husband and asked : “Maybe we are not dressed appropriately Dad?”. And with his usual nonchalance he said “Wala silang pakielam (roughly translated : I don’t care) we are buying, my kids want to have a donut and I don’t give a f****&% about the people who will think we are not dressed properly,” he declared.

And so we stepped inside this posh Starbucks in my slippers. My son wore his favourite sando with a large hole in front (he loves this thing!), My daughter wore a hand me down pair of pajamas that kept falling off her butt exposing her diapers (she loves this one too!), My husband wore his sando from the dinosaur era and I had a pokemon shirt on. A friggin pokemon shirt in screaming yellow.

Of course people stared, but mostly because they thought my kids in their PJs were adorable. My son kept jumping up and down after seeing the donuts, the chocolate fudge, and pastries. He wanted to have everything.

My toddler was waving hi to everyone and pointing at the lights and the cars. They obviously did’t care that they were in their PJs, that their parents were dressed funny. I kept folding my son’s top right at the spot with the hole trying my best to hide it, but he kept straightening this up and saying I love this shirt! He did’t give a fudge.

All my kids cared about was this wonderful time with their parents, the scrumptious donuts, and brain-freeze inducing “chocolate juice” as my daughter likes calling it. We asked permission to bring our food and drinks to the parking lot, opened our  car’s back door and sat in there.

My son kept kissing and hugging me. “I’m having so much fun Mom!” he said. My daughter kept her face buried in her frapuccino not to be bothered. We finished our donuts, our chocolate fudge, our cinnamon rolls, and laughed our butts off. We took many pictures, took selfies, made snapchat videos, and stared at the stars.

We talked about my son’s classmates, we sang the finger family song with my daughter, smelled daddy’s fart, twice, and waved at the cars passing by.

It was a wonderful night. A memorable time with my kids.

Now whenever I’d start to worry about what others would think I will remind myself of our wonderful time in the Starbucks parking lot in our PJs and silly shirts.

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