This morning my mother and I were able to enjoy a cup of coffee and a chat together before I started work. It’s the first time that’s ever really happened, and she said as much to me. It was a good feeling.
I like my coffee black, but only if it’s got 6 scoops of sugar and a healthy serving of powdered cream. It’s not a morning wake-up call for me, it’s dessert in a cup. It’s the only splurge I allow myself as I work on improving my health. Just one cup of coffee, that is all I need. Two cups, and I’d be shaking like a leaf.
I don’t like black coffee. The bitter flavor ruins ice cream. My nephew drinks his coffee black, but my mother likes some cream. My father, he prefers some tea, but don’t give him green! Black it is. English is the best. I prefer Chai tea.
She drinks her coffee black, with a bit of heavy cream. Skip the sugar, but drink all day, and one before she sleeps. My mother takes no sugar, and says hell no to low fat cream, but what she does I’ll never understand, is reheat it in the microwave. I prefer to pour it out and brew it all again.
I don’t like the Keurig, it just doesn’t seem to come clean, and so I prefer to brew my cups in an old coffee machine. I fill it to the top, even though I only have one cup. I know it’s wasteful, but I can’t resist the scent as it gets filled up.
