Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The Other Man Makes Great Coffee

Morning Readers,

     A couple of weeks ago, I made some Sanka, coffee's second cousin. I'd been in a rush and needed something that looked and mimicked the caffeine-saturated drink I love so much, without having to wait for it to brew. The instant the hot water hit the crystals lying in the bottom of my favorite mug, I could feel it; He was staring at the back of my head. My shoulders slumped and I turned to pat his little, red top. "There there", I said. He stared back at me, because what I was doing was unkind and I knew it. Mr. Coffee and I need each other. He rolled up his cord and looked the other way.

     Many of my dear Readers know that I'm obsessed with coffee, java, jo, the stuff that keeps humans from falling off the Earth (someone once told me it was called gr-a-vi-t-y, or something like that, but I doubt it). Coffee is to me, what over-sized faux, fur hobo coats are to the Olsen Twins, a delicious euphoria that threatens to smother us if we don't keep it in check. That, and all three of us are in constant danger of being mistaken for the homeless.
      What you don't know, Readers, is the relationship between me and Mr. Coffee has progressed from casual meetings, off and on, during the week, to a full-on love affair. When Husband leaves, and the sun's beginning to peak through the window, I slip downstairs, saunter over to him, cock my left eyebrow and try not to make it awkward:

"Hello, fancy seeing you here again." I laugh nervously. "How's about I clean that old coffee out, and you and I make a new pot....together?"

     (Because talking to inanimate objects is frowned upon by the rest of society, I've been forced to gift a persona to my little coffee pot. For all intents and purposes, kindly imagine the next lines spoken by the late, great Cary Grant....because there's nothing more amusing to me than Cary Grant offering a bedraggled mother a cup of coffee.)

"Darling!", he coos. "Looking lovelier than yesterday...if that's even possible."

I giggle. "Oh, Mr. Coffee...you cad."

" Ha! You do that to me. While I brew, why don't you tell me your plans for the day?  Grocery shopping? Laundry? Sailing around the world on my yacht, in hot pursuit of international stamp thieves? Oh, you're a delightful and spontaneous woman."

"Thank you Mr. Coffee, but no. After drinking five cups of liquid crack, I've got bills to pay." I wink. "International escapades will just have to wait."

We laugh heartily at our little joke, part ways and get on with the day.
     Ok, that scene was ridiculous. Even more ridiculous, the amount of times I find myself pouring just one. more. cup. I know I've gotta lay off, but it keeps me going. The danger of being a stay at home mom, I suppose, coffee overload...well that, and talking to coffee pots. So what about you Readers? Can you survive without your coffee?

Until Next Time!