I have drank more cups of coffee in the past few months than I have in all the past years combined. The truth is I have never really been an avid coffee drinker. Though I have always loved the smell of coffee, I have never really craved for it. I have not yet reached that stage of coffee addiction. I can't imagine myself getting there. You would not see me lining up at Starbucks trying to get enough stickers to claim next year's planner. Nope, not me.
I was not a coffee drinker as a student. I managed to stay up late without the need for caffeine. When I started working, I guess I was too busy for coffee breaks. Then when I got married, I was either pregnant or breastfeeding, so coffee didn't have any place in my try-to-be-healthy life.
So why have I started drinking coffee this late in the game?
I honestly don't know. Perhaps it is my way of celebrating the fact that I am neither pregnant nor am I breastfeeding. Or maybe it is just another excuse to spend time with people I like. Or better yet, an excuse to spend time with people I like and eat something I really, really like.
There has always been coffee at Cebu Avenue. You see, Father is a classic coffee addict. He just HAS to have his cup of coffee in the morning or else his day is ruined. He doesn't like those instant three-in-one coffee things. No way! He buys different varieties of coffee beans and mixes them up. The beans are ground in the morning so that his morning coffee is brewed fresh everyday.
When I was still living at Cebu Avenue, I would hitch a ride to Makati with Father. He would drop me off at work on his way to office. We would usually leave at about 7:30 am. That would give us ample time to go through the traffic at EDSA and neither of us would be late for work. One morning, I was surprised to find Father all dressed up and ready to leave for work at about 6:30 am. He would have left me behind if I had not caught up with him. I rushed to dress up and joined him towards Makati. When I asked why we were rushing that morning, his answer was simple, "There is no electricity in the house, I have to go to the office to drink my coffee."
That was over fifteen years ago.
Last Christmas, I decided to get Father a stovetop coffee maker, one which would not require electricity. I thought it would be the perfect gift for Father. I don't mind if he never gets to use it. As long as it is available whenever he needs it.
Father likes his coffee black. Yikes! I like my coffee the way my Lola Lil made it for us when we were kids -- with lots of milk and lots of sugar. (Silly me, I should have known that my grandmother wasn't really giving us coffee.)
At the dinner table this evening, GI was still finishing his meal when Dad decided he wanted to have some coffee after dinner. Though we have a perculator, Dad opted to go for instant coffee. As he placed water in the kettle, he asked if I wanted to join him for some coffee. I said yes, so he added extra water in the kettle and got an extra mug for me.
He placed some coffee, milk and sugar in his mug while waiting for the water to boil. He was about to do the same for my mug when he remembered I had a different concept of what coffee was supposed to taste like. He passed on the container with the coffee, milk and sugar so that I could prepare my own brew. If I were to label my coffee mug with the ingredient found inside, it would read : MILK, SUGAR, COFFEE.
When the hot water arrived, I poured some in my mug, stirred it up then proceeded to sip my coffee. I was practically gulping down my coffee because it was getting late. The other kids were waiting for me. GI noticed this and commented, "Relax, Mom. Enjoy your coffee."
Dad couldn't resist teasing me. He said, "Mom is not drinking coffee, she's drinking coffee."
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