Got your horrible coffee, right here

Tim brewed a pot of coffee for us Sunday morning. He poured the coffee, added the cream, and was interrupted by a crying baby, demanding his attention.

"The coffee needs sugar." he told me as I cruised through the kitchen.

I fetched the sugar from the dining room table (it had been left there by the company we had the previous night) and added it to the coffee. I emptied the sugar bowl. I was then interrupted by a crying baby, demanding my attention.

Tim went to refill the sugar bowl. I thought it was a terrific kindness after I emptied it. I busied myself with calming a crying baby and returned to my cup of coffee once the baby was calmed. I returned to Tim tipping in another spoonful of sugar.

"I already put in sugar!" I cried, much too late to save the coffee from sweetness overload.

Tim groaned. "Well, your coffee will be very sweet and mine will be horribly sweet. I added another spoonful to your coffee and two spoonfuls to mine." He chivalrously offered me the remaining coffee in the pot to cut the sweetness in the coffee and try to salvage the cup.

"I'll just add more cream to mine."

Tim pulled out, not creamer, but soy-milk. We have soy-milk because Annie is allergic to cow's milk. The carton of soy-milk and the carton of creamer are roughly the same size. While some people out there claim to love soy-milk lattes and the like, soy in coffee is not a taste Tim nor I prefer. Tim moves so quickly sometimes. I couldn't act or speak quickly enough to keep him from dumping in additional sugar and I couldn't keep him from dumping in a liberal dollop of soymilk to his coffee.

It was a horrible cup of coffee.