your daily hedonist: morning coffee

7 Aug

I wake her up with a gentle nudge on the shoulder exactly 30 minutes before I have to get dressed for work.  She’s groggy and I can tell by the way she moves her legs, back, and neck are stiff from a night of little sleep.

But she gets up anyway.

I can hear her turn on the kettle and start bustling around in the kitchen.  She tries so hard to be quiet, she knows it pleases me to have her work silently in the morning, but since she is so tired I can here little mistakes.  A cabinet door closed a bit too roughly.  A dish dropped a bit too quickly into the stainless steel sink.

Her work slowly starts to get quieter as I can hear the kettle slowly starting to work its way up to a whistle.  She catches it right as it starts to boil and a few moments later she’s quietly carrying in my mug (with just the right amount of almond milk), a small plate of brownies she made last night, and my favorite french press with my favorite coffee.

She snuggles back in with me for a while, moving much more easily now, so her head can rest on my lap as I check emails.  After 3 minutes have passed she reaches over and presses my coffee, as I watch the grounds get slowly crushed to the bottom.  She pours the coffee slowly, making sure no stray grounds fall into my mug, and then hands it to me with both hands.

She snuggles back in and I can feel her skin on my naked thigh.  I take a moment to breathe it in before tipping the mug up to my lips.

“Is your coffee good, Sir? Did I do a good job?” she asks

I close my eyes enjoy my first sip.

“mmmm…. very good coffee.  You did a very good job.”

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