Good daddy, such a good daddy. Oh, thats ribbit Artie is playing with...ribbit the frog.
We were up most of the night earlier in the week. It was one crisis after the other. When Artie finally fell into a fitful sleep in dads arms. Dad put both of us to bed in the big bed.
Two hours later, when we woke up, dad had some wonderful coffee in a wonderful new?) coffee maker going.
Lets do the count down here.
Dad had gotten up and cleaned up Artie and the bed from the disconnected pump.
Dad had given Artie meds to ease his back.
Dad had washed clothes...three mini loads of mixed colors and fabrics, but who here cares?
Dad had gone to the 24 hour Wally World and bought presents.
Dad had made coffee.
As I held my hot cup of coffee in my arthritic hands I wondered why a coffe pot and what kind of present this was. You know presents say something about the giver and the thoughts of the giver regarding the one being given to...
Later my neice dropped by the house. When she saw the new coffee pot and asked about it I told her the story.
She laughed and laughed and laughed. I must have had a puzzled look on my face. All she would say is "he loves you" and laughed some more. She knows me well.
I dont function well if I dont sleep so coffee is a help. My hands are curled up with pain early in the morning so heat is a welcomed treat. A hot cup of coffee and a few minutes to wake often make a good day start right or a bad day better. It usually takes me a painful 10 minutes to get the pot going, spilling at least one or two things.
I am grumpy.
Now, every morning he makes my coffee. The pot has a timer on it.
Let me pause here. You may think "oh a timer, everyone has one of those". But no. We are conservative, we are saving, we are careful with pennies. My coffee pot is years old, second hand, from freecycle.
My womderful dutiful husband asked me to refreecycle the old coffee pot.
Wonderful daddy...
1 comment:
How sweet!
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