Why, they could percolate the ocean in Brazil
Three months into the New Year. That’s where I find myself this morning. Three months, how did I let it get this far? I’m off my game. Dad likes to change things up, to mess with me I believe, and this time he’s really gone and done it. Perhaps it was the color? Maybe the shape? Perplexed, how did he do it? I’m sorry, I should back up and explain what this is all about.
At Christmas, the parentals exchanged gifts and Dad got a new appliance. The box was massive. So much so, it required a handle to carry. You know a present is massive when the box comes with its own handle. After dad opened it up he started to remove various items and he let my brother and I play with all the Styrofoam as he unpackaged this behemoth of a gift. Please, I’m not impressed with big chunks of foam – like my brother. He tries to eat the white blocks. Now that I think about it, this explains a lot about my terrier of a brother. Note to self, terrier = terror. Uh huh, you get it.
I saw it for a brief period when he was reading the instruction manual. I’ve seen space ships on the pane of knowledge and this didn’t quite resemble that. No, this looked more like an alien. It had a big black base to support the frame. Directly in front looked to be a spout of some kind. The top half of the body had a sleek chrome like finish and appeared to be hunched over in front of the rest of the device. It even had pods. More on that later. Dad adjusted a lever and the chrome body slowly lifted upright. What did mom get him? How does this benefit me? I don’t see a spot for peanut butter. I don’t see a built in cheese slicer. That would be handy. I don’t see where you would store bread or other baked goods. I also heard talk of it going in the kitchen. Didn’t make any sense. After the big reveal dad quickly moved it to one of the counter tops. It must have been heavy as he made a grunting sound when moving it. That or dad is getting up there in years. Uh huh, you get it.
Once dad settled on just the right spot on the counter, he adjusted it four times, he plugged it in and did some kind of “test.” He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and placed it under the previously mentioned spout. Pressing a button on the alien’s head the monster started to come to life. A sudden whoosh was heard. My brother Buddy, still chomping on foam, whimpered when he heard the noise and ran to find mom. To this day, he won’t come near this section of the kitchen. The initial noise was followed by a grinding sound that went on for a few minutes. Dad even checked the manual, yes again, probably to make sure the sound was normal. Feeling satisfied he continued to stand and watch. I could hear what sounded like a liquid, probably water. In a few minutes the sound stopped. Dad removed the glass which, sure enough, was full of water. He seemed pleased with himself and went back to show my mom. Water? He got a water machine? Water comes out of the sink or sometimes the fridge. From that point forward, until today, I didn’t pay the machine any mind. I already had water in my dish. His new device seemed like a giant paper weight. Merry Christmas Dad!
In the last three months dad has started to have more and more “water.” At first he had it once or twice a week. He then progressed to four to five. In the last two weeks, he’s had it every day. I think he’s now addicted to “water?” Okay, I had to know more. Water, really!
I followed him downstairs this morning. First things first, he put on his shoes. He’s becoming more and more like Mr. Rogers with each passing day. He just needs more sweaters. Like clockwork he heads to that special section of the kitchen. I trotted right passed him and stopped at the counter.
“Are you hungry,” he said to me.
“No, I’m thirsty,” I replied looking up at the counter.
“Sydney, you can’t have any coffee it will burn your mouth and I’m sure it won’t taste good. Don’t even get me started on what the caffeine might do to you.
Coffee, this is starting to make a little more sense. I thought coffee came from the Starchild. Wait, no that’s the singer with white makeup on his face and a star over his right eye. I’ve seen dad drink coffee before from Starbuck. Wait, no that’s Starbucks. Starbuck is from one of dad’s favorite shows about a spaceship and aliens. I see, it’s all coming together now.
“Sydney, do you want to make some coffee with me? Keep in mind, you can’t have any – understand?”
Oh yeah, I understand and we shall see about the consumption part. Dad turned to see if mom was around. Sensing the coast was clear he had me sit up and place my paws on the counter. Normally I’m not allowed to do this but if he insists I’m happy to help. In the interest of science and exploration of course.
Dad pulled open a tray from under the machine with four sleeves. Each contained different colored pods and sizes. Ah, the pods. Dad picked one and held it to my nose to sniff. Whoa, very strong. Dad noted the smaller pods were a type of espresso and the larger a more standard coffee. He selected a standard and opened the chrome top of the alien. Once open, the machine revealed a nifty space for the pod to go. Dad closed and locked the pod inside. He pointed to two containers attached to either side of the machine. One contained water and the other empty pods. Huh, I should pop up on the counter more often. This is fun.
Dad told me to stay and he went to the fridge and returned with some milk. He pointed to a jug on the counter he called a frother. He poured out some of the milk until he had just enough. Dad noted this was to heat up the milk that would go with his coffee. In a few short minutes the milk was warm, I took his word for it, and he emptied it into a mug. Geez, a lot goes into making coffee and he hasn’t gotten to that part yet. It’s a good thing he doesn’t do this for a living.
“Are you ready Sydney?” he said to me. Yes, hurry mom may be downstairs shortly and I haven’t come this far to miss out.
Dad placed the mug, with milk inside, under the spout on the front. He pressed a button on the machine and the whoosh and grinding sound began. What followed was a heavenly scent of coffee brewing right before me. Somehow the water mixed with the coffee pod and began to flow from the spout into the awaiting mug. Before I knew it the machine whirled to a stop and dad removed the mug. He let me smell it but wasn’t about to let me drink it. I took in a deep breath. This may in fact be the best part of waking up. Now I get what dad has been saying these last three months – “world’s best cup of coffee.” I thought he was just quoting mom’s favorite film but he actually did it.
Congratulations, Dad! Not only did you make some wonderful smelling coffee, you restored my faith in you. A water machine, that’s just silly.
