Dear Kid,

Your father is making fun of me.

It’s not that I blame him exactly. It’s just that he seems to be enjoying it a wee bit too much.

At least a wee bit too much for my taste.

Here’s what happened.

I made a cup of coffee. A delightful, full bodied, fresh cup of coffee.

Only I forgot the cup.

The Keurig is a remarkable machine. It makes a happy little sound as it makes coffee. It doesn’t complain. It doesn’t take up too much space. It’s perfectly content making Double Diamond one moment and French Vanilla Decaf the next.

It does not, however, check to see if there’s a cup before it starts pouring.

In my defense, I was looking at Dad and was thoroughly distracted.

Also in my defense (OK, less in my defense and more to help share the blame), Dad was staring straight at the Keurig and didn’t mention notice that the coffee was going straight to the drip tray without checking at Cup Station.

The good news was that I had the drip tray in place. The only other time I’ve gone cup-less, I didn’t have the drip tray and ended up with coffee all over the counter, the cabinets, the dishes, and the floor.

There I was, coffee in the drip tray, cup in hand, Dad laughing all over the place, and the Puppy wondering when something was going to spill so he could share in the fun.

I was not amused. Did I mention it was Cup #1 of the Day?

I thought about picking up the drip tray of coffee and pouring it into my cup. Dad saw my thought (I am not subtle first thing in the morning) and offered to help (and by “offered to help” I mean hollered, “I’ll do it! You probably shouldn’t touch anything hot!”).

He started looking for the turkey baster (I kid you not). I thought about pouring the coffee on him.

I got out a small ladle and ladled coffee soup into my cup while inventing ways to torture people who make fun of other people before those other people are sufficiently caffeinated.

NOTE: A side trip to the drip tray does not noticeably change the taste of coffee. Just thought you should know.

Love, Mom