And still, the fact of the matter remains- Keepitcoming Love makes the best morning coffee. I make delicious eggs. Case closed.
It's just how it's always gone. We'll both do breakfast or I'll slip down and whip something up, and she makes the coffee. But sometimes, we'll be sitting in our robes on the chaise lounge, listening to The Zombies on Pandora, and I'll come bounding up like a puppy saying, "Surprise! I made coffee!", and we'll both take a sip and simultaneously wince.
"Did you use the coffee spoon?"
"Yeah."
"Did you use the right ratio?"
"Oh, totally."
"Really?"
"I might have done a little improvising here and there, but it's okay, right?"
She'll take a few sips. I'll shrug and say something about how nice the weather is and inconspicuously try to mix sriracha into the coffee. It fixes everything, right? And halfway to a terrible, watery grave, we'll look at each other and say, "This coffee is pretty bad." She'll stroke my head and tell me I'll learn- someday. I'll sigh. And she'll pad back to make another pot of coffee. And that's one of many reasons why I love her.
It's how it's always gone. As much as I'd like to wake up earlier than she does and bring her coffee in bed, it's just not a skill I've cultivated yet. Until now. Now, I can bring her this new finding, the milk coffee Kit Kat bar from the Asian grocery, and essentially emulate the idea of coffee in a single serving of a candy bar.



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