Subourbon Mom

My Cups Runneth Over

The other day I heard someone say “my cup runneth over.” The expression (which comes from Psalms 23:5) means having more than enough for your needs.  Well, I’ve begun to think we all have cabinets full of cups, but not all cups have good things in them—some of them are delicious, and some are just nasty. Too bad those things aren’t kept in shot glasses.

We all have the cup of good luck and good times, which I like to picture as a flute of champagne, bubbling over the rim onto a dinner jacket or down the front of a cocktail dress, especially at weddings and celebrations (for celebrators on a budget, make it pink Asti Spumante). It makes us happy and laugh a lot, and dance inappropriately at weddings—best of all, it rarely leaves a stain.

The cup of jealousy is a no brainer–crème de menthe. It’s a vile shade of green, and can even ruin something as sweet as vanilla ice cream.

The cup of anger can be filled with lots of things, but my choice would be beer. There might be some arguments, but hear me out.  Beer makes people loud, and sometimes aggressive. If beer drinkers don’t get aggressive, they get tired and go to bed before the party’s over. When someone’s red solo beer cup is too full, the beer slops out over the edge and onto someone else’s flip flops, pickup truck, or stadium seat.  It leaves a sticky residue that stays around for a long time (have you ever smelled a fraternity house?) and makes your shoes squeak, reminding you of what happened.  And when you try to empty your red solo cup by drinking it, beer makes you feel bloated inside, and keeps you up all night when you finally break the seal and try to let it out.


The energy cup is filled with…what else? Coffee! When your coffee mug overflows it’s annoying–probably as annoying as you are to those whose cups are only half-full. It’s even more annoying when you spill a $4 cup from Starbucks–then you’re annoying and out $4.

The cup of youthful sex is filled with peach schnapps or Boones Farm. Lots of people drink it when they’re younger, and never really get over the experience. Their stomachs still curdle at the memories.

The cup of mature sex is bourbon, in a highball glass—sometimes it makes you laugh, sometimes it makes you loud, and sometimes it makes you sleep when you’re done emptying it.

We also have the cup of love, which for me would be filled with hot chocolate—it’s warm, sweet and makes you feel happy and full inside. It also helps you sleep at night.

Everybody has a cabinet full of cups, and at one point or another, they all runneth over. When it happens, choose wisely who you spill the contents on—friends don’t mind a little beer every now and then, people will laugh and grab you into a giddy hug when you spill your champagne, and most folks will be okay when your hot chocolate runneth over, because even your residual chocolate tastes good when they suck it out of their favorite shirt.


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