My Love Affair with Coffee

Every morning at the buttcrack of Evelyn crying or Harvey standing by my bed saying, "Mom?", my day starts. First thing I do? Go pee. Then I find my way to the kitchen. It's coffee time!
On the counter is a fine piece of machinery we like to call the coffee pot. If you must know, it's a Bunn. It doesn't just make coffee. It MAKES some damn coffee. And, in, like, 3 minutes or whatever.
So, I get that going and then I go get Evelyn from her bed. Apparently, her number one daily task is peeing, too. We get a change of diaper, a bit of milk, and we're good!
Back to the kitchen. I grab my choice of creamer from the fridge. I'm currently hooked on caramel stuff. Dulce de leche, creme brulee, Hershey's Chocolate and Caramel. Ya know. I pour myself a cup, get the kids some quick breakfast whipped together, and I go plop myself on the couch.
By now, it has cooled just enough to start sipping. I can't drink coffee straight from the pot. Just too hot. I don't have a fireproof mouth. I just wasn't built that way, I suppose.
Now I sink into "hearing- and visually-impaired mode". I'll admit it. I ignore my kids for a few minutes while I zone out and have some time for myself. They're generally eating at the table, so, statistically speaking, they don't really need my attention. Nobody has ever choked during coffee time, right? ...And you know, as a parent, you must be doing something right if your children survive breakfast.
During my few minutes of deaf- and blindness, I think my disabled sense of hearing and sight magically strengthens my sense of taste. Each sip is the best thing that has happened to me that day so far. Each one gets better than the previous. It's just so good! Yea, I know, it's 'just coffee'. But it's just so freaking delicious, and every morning, I still go through this.
Eventually my hearing and sight come back. Before I know it, I've had a few cups and my hands are shaking uncontrollably. Granted, I haven't been sitting on the couch staring off into space the whole time, but the hand shaking always seems to creep up on me. And, when I go to grab my cup for what I think will be the last drink, then realize that I already drank it, and the cup is now empty, I go through a quick bout of sadness.
So I go about my day hippity hopping like Peter Rabbit. The shakes wear off sometime along the way. We do daytime people stuff. Eat. Play. Chores. Read. Sing. Dance. Eat. Naps.
Mr K gets home from work. I would say we have coffee with or around dinner, maybe, 4 times a week. I guess it really is just that good. We can't wait until morning to get our next fix.
Fix, you say? Like an addiction fix? I guess that depends on who you are asking.
Science says, "Yes. You are an addict."
I say, "No. It's just so flipping tasty! I drink it so much because I can't stop loving it."
Science says, "That is because you are addicted to caffeine. Duh."
I roll my eyes and say, "Shut up, Science."
I have definitely come to realize that coffee is just straight yummy. I live in the Pacific Northwest where you can find a coffee stand in almost every parking lot. Starbuck's is everywhere. I live in a smaller town, and we have 2 of them. However, I'm still a cheapo at heart. The bargainer in me says 'Why pay $4 for one cup of coffee, when you can buy a whole can for 7, which makes hundreds of cups of coffee?'.
...Which could easily lead my to the topic of why I love being at home so much. Quite simply, everything (that matters to me) is better when it is done at home. Drinking coffee is absolutely no exception. Eating breakfast? Have some coffee! Doing laundry? Drink some coffee! Neglecting your young children for some personal time? Hey, how about a cup of coffee!
I just can't stop. And I'm not sure I want to. Oh coffee, how I love thee!