Tuesday was off to a bad start. Mostly it was work that was screwing up what would have been an otherwise delightful day. Also, I'd forgotten to bring my remaining stuffed poblano pepper, left over from last night's delicious dinner, for lunch. To cheer myself up, I coaxed Jeremiah into joining me for lunch at my new favorite spot near my office, Cafe Posh. I tried to find a site to share with you but they don't have one. Cafe Posh is located in a shopping center next to a little shoe store that's next to the Kroger that houses the Starbucks which supplies the fuel for my frappucino monkey. It is not posh. I've wondered a couple times if maybe that's the name of the family that owns and operates it.
Anyway, I love the tiny, middle eastern woman that seems to lord over the place. She's always nice. What? I like nice. They make all their own breads and everything is delightfully fresh. I've been making my co-workers go there with me, one at a time. Plus, wi-fi! Annnnyhoo, Tuesdays and Thursdays they do a falalfel special (yum! homemade pita) and I wanted to try it. Jeremiah was pretty easy to convince. It was, for the first time in about a year, I think, not 100 degrees outside, so I walked.
I was already feeling a bit lighter at the prospect of getting to see Jeremiah right in the middle of the day during the week but then, as if Lawrence Welk had himself smiled down upon me, things got even better. There's a big ol' fountain out in front of the cafe. As Jeremiah and I approached it together we saw that the fountain had been filled with LOTS of soapy bubbles. It was overflowing with soft fluff. There was a gentle breeze and as the wee-bitty kids and their parents who had gathered around it drove their arms in up to the elbows and threw bubbly-fluff into the air, the breeze would catch it and the bubbles would float gleefully above everyone's heads. They looked like cartoon amoebas.
Here's the thing about a world filled with bubbles - it makes everyone cheerful. One woman told us that when they first got to the fountain there was a wall of bubbles so huge that it covered the benches around the fountain. Indeed, the benches were stained with soap scum. We sat outside to eat our sandwiches and every single person who walked by, if they didn't stop to play in the bubbles, smiled. From what we could glean, the bubbles were a teenage prank. Ah, those awful, underwear-exposing, meddling kids.