When the Chocolate Starts a Rockin…

WARNING...this post is ridiculous.

I often drink a cup of sugar free hot chocolate, in the morning at work. The trek to the employee break room is fairly far from my desk (it’s not like I have to pack a brown bag lunch or anything to get there, but it’s not just around the corner).

Getting to the break room is no problem. In fact, it’s nice to get the blood moving after the long commute to the office. However, returning to my desk with the cup of hot liquid has always been a slow endeavor for me. It has happened more frequently than I would like to admit (a few times weekly) - the slosh of molten chocolaty goodness tidal waving over the rim and onto my hand and clothes.

OUCH!

I have tried walking slowly…while staring at the hot chocolate and willing it to remain within the burn free safety of the cup.
I have tried walking at a normal pace…without even looking at the cup.
I have tried filling the cup only half full, with a good two inches of an anti-spill zone.

Inevitably, the chocolate pours over the Styrofoam dam and gets on me.

Enter Olga...



I hope that I’m not the only nerd who watched “Little House on the Prairie” nearly every day during my youth. If you have seen as many episodes of the bonnet wearing pioneers as I have…then you may recall Olga. Olga had one leg shorter than the other. When the others would play, she would sit and watch. Compassionate Laura asks her father to help Olga from Nellie's brutal treatment. So, the brilliant and master fix-it man, (every one's hero) Charles Ingalls, makes Olga a pair of special shoes (one shoe had about four inches of wood nailed to it to compensate for her shorter extremity...brilliant!)

Now, I’m not saying that I need a peg leg or a special shoe...and you certainly don't need to start calling me Olga, but I think that one of my legs might be ever so slightly shorter than the other (I KNOW…that totally ruins your preconceived belief that I’m perfect in every single way). When I walk, you can’t see me swaying side to side like a penguin. But, I think it’s definitely manifesting itself in my inability to walk without spilling.

Until the discovery of the decade (thus far)...

I constantly move the arm holding the cup, up and down (slightly and slowly), to absorb my apparently turbulent walk. Yeah, it sounds strange, and I will admit, it would probably look a little funny if someone studied my swagger from the break room to my desk. But, it has calmed the waves and saved my hand and clothing from further pain and suffering. - my shock absorbing system...to be known from this point forward as, “The Up/Down Swayze Strut”.

Thank you to the years of scoliosis screening throughout elementary school, which made me paranoid enough to believe that I have one leg abnormally shorter than the other (they would always put a block of wood under my right foot before checking my spine alignment). And thank you, Charles Ingalls, for giving me the courage and belief that I, too, can conquer my battle of a lop-sided walk.

Sway on...Swayze.



Peace out!