He's a boy...

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AN ADDENDA TO THIS POST:
I don't really want to wake-up tomorrow and be 5'6", 125 pounds, and have blond hair.  I'm perfectly content being.....
5'4", 
X number of pounds, [did you for real think I would post my weight?  Seriously....]
and the girl with curly brown hair... :)  
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8:02 a.m., telephone rings.


Me (after a quick glance at Caller ID):  "Hi Crazy!  How's your morning?"
Favorite co-worker (FCW):  "I kept looking at my phone this morning...hoping for a text message with a Starbuck's cup...dreaming about good coffee..."  (Insert his sigh.)


Me:  "Well, I wanted to wake-up blond, 5'6" and 125 pounds but that didn't happen!  You win some and lose some, kid!"


FCW:  "I was buying!  I told you that I would treat next time!"


Me:  "I know.  There's always Friday..."


It's pointless for me to explain that I have to leave my house at 7:05 in order to get to Starbucks and from there, make it to work on time.  Some mornings (as I have clearly pointed out to him) my hair does not cooperate or I am overly-indecisive about what to wear.  He just doesn't understand because he's a boy.


I intend to arise early from my slumber on Friday and bring us Starbucks...lest we have a repeat performance of today.  (Sigh.)