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Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Cream in my Coffee

Friday I decide to leave to go visit with my girlfriend for the weekend.  Before I leave, I have to do all of my mother, wife, caretaker duties.  Heaven forbid these guys have to go to the grocery store while I'm away.  Hubby knows that I need my space...I need a break, so begrudgingly he agrees to let me go.  He tries to put up a mild protest, "But it's the weekend and I'm leaving next week."
"Yeah, well I was here all of last weekend.  What did we do together?  Nada! You and Blue went on 2 dates.  You and I...zero!"

They all want me here because I am their comfort zone.  Most of all, I am the food lady.  They see me and all of a sudden it's, "What's for breakfast?  What's for lunch? Is there any coffee?  What am I supposed to eat?"  I'm like -do I have the word "Food" written across my forehead?

Almost every working day, especially when my husband is working from home...I bring him a cup of coffee in the morning.  He gets up and goes straight to the computer and the phone.  There's no time to walk down the stairs and grab a little breakfast.  At a minimum I bring him a cup of coffee, sometimes a danish, a granola bar, and if I'm in a really good mood --eggs, and toast.

There are days when I am laying in bed, usually on my laptop wishing that someone would bring ME a cup of coffee.  It never happens.  On Mother's Day this year, I finally get my wish.  My mother makes the coffee.  My husband brings me a cup.  The coffee is in a huge, heavy, beer mug.  It is the kind of cup that he uses.  I'm grateful for the gesture but...have you EVER seen me poor a cup of coffee for myself in a huge mug like this? I know exactly how you like your coffee.  Why don't you know how I like mine? 

On Friday, as I am preparing to leave for my trip to Houston, I'm at the grocery store picking up everyone's list of food.  I'm in the produce isle, my cell phone buzzes.  It's a text message from Hubby.  "Are you still at the store?"
I reply, "Yes."
"Would you like some company?"

He shows up just in time as I'm on the water isle.  I am smiling like a school girl, so touched by this gesture.  He hates the grocery store.  He hates pushing the cart.  He usually refuses to get one.  If he can't carry it in his hands or a handheld basket, he won't get it.  I give him a big kiss in the middle of the isle. He lifts the heavy box of water into my cart. I am smiling ear to ear.

This simple gift from the man that I love is the cream in my coffee.

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