So, one of the things I really get irritated about, every single morning, is that my beloved programmable coffee maker doesn’t keep time correctly here in Italy. Something to do with the cycle differences and Hertz and blah blah whatever. I mean, I really do understand it, being a science teacher and all… but the truth is that I really don’t care. I just get cranky about my coffee maker not having the coffee ready when I get downstairs at 5:40 every morning.
Also, I get that this is completely a first-world, white-girl problem. But still. I had fallen so hard for this sexy beast of a coffee maker – I even wrote a whole slobbery-kiss-type post about it – that for it to let me down here in Italy is just truly a heart-breaker.
I haven’t even looked for a programmable coffee maker that runs on 220-volt power source. I mean, this is Italy. They drink espresso, not café Americano. Don’t get me wrong; the espresso is delicious! And… peppy! But it’s not ready when I come downstairs at 5:40 in the early blasted morning. Even if it was, I just… love my whole coffee routine. And I finally perfected the taste. (Brewed a little strong, so that I can toss a few pieces of ice in it to cool it down faster so I can drink it sooner…. it’s a science, I tell you!)
So my new routine is to stumble down the stairs and hit the button on the coffee maker. Then I stumble to my recliner and plop down, waiting for the coffee maker to beep, telling me that the coffee is ready. Eventually I drag myself out of the recliner and go pour a cup…
And I just hate that part.
I don’t really know why, except that one of the things I really loved about my coffee being ready when I came downstairs is that I could pour a cup and go sit in my chair for 15 or 20 minutes, sipping and getting ready for my day, without getting back up again until it was time to get Jet out of bed.
This morning, my extra-amazing husband was getting ready to leave for PT (physical training), as usual. And, as usual, we barely exchanged three words, because we’ve learned over the last ten years of marriage that it’s best if we don’t speak to each other early in the morning. It never ends well.
Before he left this morning, though, he did something that wasn’t part of the “as usual”. That amazing man, the one that I pledged my heart and life to, lo those many years ago, brought me a cup of coffee, complete with ice cubes, to my recliner.
I get choked up and teary-eyed, writing about it even now.
He probably doesn’t even know what he really did… Just another example of how blessed I am.
Knight, te quiero, con todo mi corazón, todo que soy, y todo que seré.