The Coffee Incident

It's all the Mountain Man's fault really.  If he hadn't had a spectacular coffee accident, I wouldn't have been cranky and I wouldn't have yelled at Breyan and......Okay, I'll start at the beginning.

 

You see it started with the Mountain Man doing the dishes.  He was trying to put a glass mixing bowl up on top of the cupboards.  It tipped from his fingers, bounced into the regular bowls which knocked a microwaveable bowl, which then, bounced off the counter and smashed the coffee pot.  If it was on TV it would have looked great in slow motion with MM yelling "N-o-o-o-o-o-o."  (Contrary to the "Sh....".that he did yell because then it wouldn't have been family TV.)

 

So no coffee until we get another coffee pot.  We have one of those dinky little one-cup coffee makers but unfortunately, Breyan has been to the Sarcasm Kings school of coffee making and makes coffee that would shame espresso into admitting it was dishwater.  I know my brother hasn't been in the army but you'd never know it from his coffee.

 

You also can't keep it warm if you don't drink it right away so if MM makes it in the morning, it's cold before I get up and reheated coffee in the microwave is wrong.  (Grandma warms up her tea that way but after burning my hand literally to a cup that I didn't know wasn't microwavable and having to have my wedding ring cut off. I don't reheat any drink in the microwave.)

 

Now, I'm not normally a coffee drinker.  I'm a dyed-in-the-wool Tetley tea drinker but a few months ago a doctor told me to drink a cup of coffee a day to help with pain.  Caffeine ups pain killers, especially codeine----it's the secret ingredient that boosts medicine.  Not more than one cup a day he warned or I would get jittery and stressed and that would defeat the purpose. 

 

So thinking logically, I made it a habit to have coffee as soon as I woke up.  In the tradition of all spoiled wives, my hubby would make a pot before he went to work or bring me one if he knew I was getting up early.  My loving children would start pouring the minute they heard me groan as I wrestled back the covers to get to the bathroom.  Their reason?  "You're nicer after your coffee." 

 

Now, I have discovered a horrible problem.  Addiction!!!  Oh foul demon riding high on the back.  I forgot that you can get addicted to coffee.  (Well to caffeine but same difference.)  Tea just doesn't cut it.  Tea is weak and watery, no bite, no bitterness and no cream.  (Cream in tea is WRONG!!!!)  Not even tea made in the Atlantic provinces can nip those fatigue cells away.  (even if you can polish your silver with it.)  Hot chocolate is just too, too sweet, like talking to a peppy morning person before 11 a.m. it grates the nerves and leaves a coating aftertaste. 

 

Why didn't I listen to Lois a few years back when she gave up caffeine for Lent?????  (I apologize to Lois ahead of paragraphs.)  When she told me I was thinking, "Jesus wants you to give up coffee?  That's your sacrifice?"  Somehow cancelling out your morning cup of Joe didn't seem very, well, um...religious!  I just can't picture Peter standing at the Pearly Gates saying, "Oh, it's you!!  The one who gave up her Folgers.  Pink wings for you girl and an extra-sparkly halo!!!!!!

 

Afterwards I thought about it and realized that there is caffeine in Chocolate.  That meant Lo had to give up the food of the God's for forty days.  At that point I realized that they would have to bring out the Holy Choir and forget Peter---It was definitely going to be Mary waiting at the front gate saying, "My child, Welcome!  A woman who gave up her chocolate for God.  May I have your autograph?

 

Anyhow, the whole point is that without my morning coffee, I am cranky and tired and my day just doesn't work!  We are going out today to get a new one but it's still been five days without coffee except for when I use the dinky one and when I sneak off to Timmy's. 

 

There is a comfort factor with addiction.  You don't have to eat all the chocolate and cakes and ice cream, if you're a food addict but there is a comfort in knowing that it is there if you want to.  Drunks would go into panic if the LCBO decided to strike and don't even begin to talk about a smoker who realizes that they are on their last cigarette.  It's a nagging thought in the back of your head.  "If you don't go out right now and get a pack then you will not have one when you need it.  What will you do if the stores are closed eh?? Eh???"  It's the demon dancing around that forces the foodie to the grocery store, the alcoholic to the liquor store and the smoker to nearest kiosk. 

 

But I couldn't just run out and buy a new coffee pot.  I had to wait until I was well enough to leave the house.  I had to wait until I could afford one and I had to wait for MM and I to stop the silly arguments. 

 

 For example:  He wants one of those coffee pots that just turns on by itself in the morning.  I think they are ridiculous.  I don't want to spend an extra twenty bucks for a coffee pot that switches itself on when you can set it up the night before and you just flip the switch before you jump in the shower.  Mountain Man doesn't get up and drink coffee right away.  He has a morning "man routine" involving the newspaper and bathrooms.  So why pay extra for a robotic coffeepot?

 

Mind you, I'm just as bad because I want a white coffee machine to match the rest of the appliances.  MM doesn't understand why we have to go looking all over the planet for a white one that will stain anyway?  (This from a man who still doesn't understand why we can't have a camoflauge couch slipcover.)

 

So the petty arguments continue which still doesn't get to the heart of the problem. 

 

I fully admit I am cranky.  So when Breyan decided to break to his curfew, by SIX HOURS!  I was extremely upset.  Take into consideration his recent mugging, the reports of gang warfare by my brother's in Toronto and the wonderful security bulliten on CNN saying Canada is next on the friendly terrorists list.  (Which I don't understand because why would they blow up the place that does their banking and gives them free place to stash their wives and families?  Thank God most people think Toronto is the capital of Canada.)

 

So I blew up.  Yes, I yelled.  Normally this is the Mountain Man's job but hey, no sleep, no coffee and what does my son use as his excuse???   "I'm working!  That means I'm an adult!  I can do what I want."

 

After almost an hour of argument, I yelled at him, "I just don't understand you!!!!  You really must be the mailman's son."  

 

Guess who was at the door delivering our mail?  

 

Yep!  Of course.  Our friendly neighbourhood 105 year old mailman!!!!!!

 

I'm still trying to get my knee out of my throat and the mailman has a really, BIG smile for me each day.

 

I'm going to get a coffee pot now.

 

 

(Later) 

 

We got the white one and no robotics.  I only won the argument because the white ones were on sale.  I'm a happy camper now.

 

Also the reason this is the Mountain Man's fault is that the mixing bowls don't go on top of the cupboard, he's just too lazy to take them down from the cupboard and stack them properly.  See?