There is nothing in this world so profound as a cup of hot coffee that I didn’t have to make.  Sometimes Mr. Wonderful gets up before me and brews some of that jittery goodness, and all I have to do is add some crack and milk.  I like my coffee a little on the caramel colored side with a healthy dose of crack and 2%.  “Crack” in my own coffeespeak is just sugar, so don’t get excited.  I’ve tried Stevia and Splenda and all those other hopeless wannabes, but nothing goes in a cup of hot joe quite like plain old refined sugar.

When Mr. Wonderful makes a pot of coffee, the warmth and deliciousness is just that much finer because I did not have to be desensitized by yesterday’s coffee grounds or the problems I have with spatial organization before having a cup of coffee.  There’s nothing more frustrating than missing the coffee maker’s reservoir at 5 am.  It makes me feel like Marie Antoinette when Mr. Wonderful makes the coffee.  I feel decadent, and all the kids can have cake for breakfast!  I used to get irritated because sometimes Mr. Wonderful doesn’t make the coffee as strong as I like it, but after a few indulgent moments, I got over it.

I bought a box of American tea, hoping to possibly curb my coffee addiction.  It’s been sitting on the shelf for two weeks.  I sniffed it.    The health gurus cannot make up their minds whether a cup of coffee is good or bad, so until they stop squabbling about it, I’m just going to enjoy my coffee, preferably the Mr. Wonderful version of it.

Coffee!  It’s what’s for breakfast!

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