As I slide into my second decade with Parkinson’s disease, the list of things I can no longer do is much longer than the list of things I am still able to accomplish.
But I can still make a DAMN fine cup of coffee!
Thanks to my Cuisinart espresso maker, I make a “wake you up with a kiss and a slap” cup of DELICIOUS coffee. I don’t futz with the milk steamer. (Here’s a shortcut for you — thank me later.) I fill a shot glass with flavored creamer, nuke it for 45 seconds, and there yuh go, pardner!
I am generally up before Gail in the morning, so I try to have all the fixings in place so I can poot out that first cuppa coffee for her within minutes of her arising. I fear what would happen otherwise.
I have these visions of her eyes starting to glow, her skin turning green, her nightshirt ripping at the shoulders and back as she doubles in size and bulk. She picks up a border collie in one hand, a German shepherd in the other and smashes them together over and over as she approaches me with MAYHEM in her eyes.
“WHERE GAIL COFFEE? GAIL MAD! GAIL SMASH! GAIL COFFEE NOW!!!”
We’ve avoided that so far.
So, I can’t mow the lawn, I can’t do the laundry, I can do a perfunctory job of straightening out the beds…
And I CAN make ONE DAMN FINE cup of coffee!
