Tuesday, December 9, 2014

My Family Has a Term for This

You know how some cranky adults have coffee makers? Well, there are two adults who are occasionally cranky living in this apartment, and a third arriving soon, and do we have a coffee maker?

Nah. We have Mr. Coffee or some knockoff bullhawk.

We also have a new pot, because we thought the old one wouldn't fit in the car (we were wrong). The new pot didn't turn out to fit the machine, so we had to MacGuyver the machine to pour anything out. We put a metal wire filter between the coffee mug and the filter nubbin.

Also, please take a moment to envy my Hyperbole and a Half mug.

Otherwise,the coffee just bogs up in the filter arena. Boiling water. Coffee grinds, grinding on each other. A failing filter. Empty cups. It is an urban nightmare, Freddy Kreuger style.

For all that effort, the ancient Walmart laughing gesture of a coffee maker has melted a hole into its...self. It's a private matter. Sometimes, we position the wonky-shaped pot with the metal wire filter positioned juuuust right so the coffee doesn't just tinkle down the side of the pot, nor does a third of the batch wind up on the counter, just staring up at us, daring us to ladle creamer out and

None of this. NONE of it! Is enough to make me start drinking tea exclusively.

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