I’ve been a coffee drinker since I was thirteen.
I think I’m a coffee connoisseur.
My husband, however, says I have NO idea what coffee tastes like since I douse it with Coffee Mate and Splenda.
For years we went round and round with me saying I can tell the difference between a GOOD cup of coffee from a BAD cup of coffee and him saying I can NOT tell the difference.
One day a few years ago we were having our good vs. bad cup of coffee debate and I insisted that I absolutely without a doubt could tell the difference.
“Pam, I know for a FACT that you do NOT know the difference,” David said as serious as a heart attack, which made me a little nervous, since he normally injected sarcasm or some stupid ass joke into just about every conversation we had.
“HOW do you know?”
“I just KNOW,” He repeated.
“Okay then tell me.” THIS ought to be good. Facts in David-land sometimes make me batshit crazy, as if I need any help.
“One day while we were having our coffee on the patio and I went up to the kitchen to refill our coffee cups and there was only enough coffee for one cup. Since yours had a little bit left I added warm water, cream and splenda just to see IF you’d notice. I gave you the cup and you drank it without saying a word.”
“No you did NOT.” I was horrified!
“And Pam. I did this TWICE. Not in the same day. But it happened two times.”
“Oh. Well. I guess I don’t know what coffee tastes like then.” I shrugged my shoulders. What else was I going to do? I was busted.
“You aren’t mad?” He was staring at me, I guess waiting for me to blow my top.
“No. Why would I be mad? I may not know a good cup of coffee but I sure as hell know a good cigarette! So don’t go messing with them!” A woman’s logic ALWAYS wins in the end.
So there you have it. There REALLY is such a thing as a little coffee with your cream and sugar.