My Breakfast Towel

Santiago and I get in my car one evening to go grab some dinner. He gets into the passenger side and has to move a bunch of dish towels that are laying on the seat.

"Why is your car covered in dish towels?"

I just look at him, because I know that the explanation of why I have 6 dish towels in my car is going to make him break out into hysterical laughter.

"Those are my breakfast towels"

He glances at the pile of towels and LOSES IT. Crying laughing to the point where he is inconsolable.
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So here's the back story:

It's a 45 minute commute to the hospital where I did my surgery rotation. That's a LONG drive! A drive where I could be doing other things. Like eating.

I have to wake up at the buttcrack of dawn to leave for the OR, so naturally I set my alarm for the last possible minute. This gives me 20 minutes to get ready and zero minutes to eat breakfast.

I HATE eating first thing in the morning. It's like I have an early morning ileus where my gut is hibernating and refuses to digest food.

But the thing is, I MUST eat breakfast or my blood sugar drops and I go crazy and want to die.

So I grab breakfast to-go.

And because I am a classy lady and don't want oatmeal goo all over my clothes, I would bring a towel with me.
To put on my lap and serve as an oatmeal shield. Or a bagel shield.
So that I don't drop molten hot cream cheese on my thigh while forcing food and coffee down my gullet.

Then, of course, I forget to bring the towels in when I get home.
My breakfast towels.