Much to the chagrin of our less caffeine inclined parents; Jared and I are coffee drinkers. Though we don’t consume a constant drip of Folgers throughout the day on par with our Lutheran friends, we do generally imbibe in a couple mugs of a local roast in the morning followed by an Americano in the afternoon and often some homebrewed local decaf to cuddle with at night. What can I say, we love our coffee.
Ryann caught on to this early. Once she mastered the whole point-and-grunt technique, our mugs were frequent items of interest. Usually she’s easily redirected with a ‘this is Mommy’s juice’ and a pat on the back to send her off on other pursuits. Occasionally she’ll ‘accidentally’ drop her sippy of water, proclaim ‘UH OH!’, and then point and ‘URGH?!?!’ But still, off she’ll go with a ‘this is Mommy’s juice’. This was not the case a few days ago.
She came, she pointed, she grunted. Then off she trotted to the kitchen. A few minutes later she came back around the corner. Damp coffee grounds tend to stick to things. Damp coffee grounds straight from the trash can tend to stick to things. This time they were stuck to the kitchen floor, the kitchen wall, and the trash can itself. Of course, this was along with Ryann’s little fist full of them, her other fist still swinging the old filter, and her little grinning mouth brimming with old grounds. She may have missed a nap after that.