“I don’t drink much coffee, and when I do, I want it in a cup!” My nephew told me this recently without blinking an eye.
“A cup?” “A cup?” “You have got to be kiddin’.” “Nope, I’m not kiddin’.” “That’s just the way I am.”
He and his wife were visiting from California. (Wouldn’t you know it?) When they left I went on a search in our house for coffee cups. I found a few fancy ones in a buffet in the dining room and four or five pretty ones hanging on a hanger on the wall. I think they are just there for show—not for use.
Returning to the kitchen I found lots of mugs. My favorite is a great one from Garland’s Oak Creek Lodge in Sedona. It brings back great memories. Another favorite is from Fort Collins, Colorado. I still remember where and when we bought it.
I love sitting it front of the fireplace with a great mug of coffee. I can’t even imagine sitting there with a coffee cup in my hand. My nephew is coming to visit again soon. I’m setting a coffee cup out for him. I hope he doesn’t use it. It would be embarrassing for both of us.
He was probably just pulling my leg, don’t you think?
maybe it's not his fault. Maybe something happened to his pinkie. If your pinkie doesn't bend then I think you are required by Juan Valdez to use a cup. I dunno, it's the only explanation I can come up with.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, my favorite is a tall mug with a santa on it. I know, but it gets a comment 10 months out of the year.