Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Wakey Wakey

It was cold this morning.

I'd left the windows open on the first floor overnight, so when I got up this morning and tiptoed downstairs, coffee was the first thing on my mind.

Also, finding out where that annoying meow was coming from. Because it wasn't my cat. My cat was curled up on my bed, snuggled in next to my 5, which is where I wanted to be.

Instead, I was awake at 6am stumbling through Lego landmines in the hall and tripping over backpacks piled at the foot of the stairs.

The meowing was coming from someone else's cat out on my patio, so I ignored it while shutting the windows.

I sort of move on autopilot while I make coffee. I'm not really one of those people who claims to be brain-dead before getting a hit of caffeine. I just sort of go through the motions of a routine until I have the first steaming cup, and then everything else seems to come into focus.

Which is what I was looking forward to as I got the coffee beans from the cabinet, and the grinder from the counter.

It's sort of become customary for my brain to wake up in the middle of the night, ready to Think. It seems 3am is the favored hour. I usually fall back asleep after a while, but those of you who've experienced middle of the night bursts of wakefulness know that when you wake up the second time, when the alarm goes off, you feel like shit.

Not to mention, this morning I was getting a new kid.

No, not like a mail-order kid. A new addition to the hoard of children that surrounds me daily. I hadn't officially met the parents yet, and I was trying to get everything rolling before they showed up. When people pay me to watch their kids, I like to give them the impression that I have things together.

I'd started breakfast, yelled up the stairs for the big kids to get up, and then returned to the kitchen to finish getting the coffee pot ready.

Filling the pot with water, I put the filter into the machine and measured out the first cup of beans into the grinder.

Then pressed the button to grind the coffee beans.

Nothing.

Oh my holy hell.

No.

Push. PUSH. PUSHPUSHPUSH.

Frick.

The grinder was broken.

I checked the plug. I switched outlets. I wiggled the cord on the grinder, I shook it, I panicked.

How does one even go through a morning without delicious coffee?

My eyes landed on a butter knife. I looked at the grinder. The lid has a little lever that presses down into a little space, which makes something work in order to grind the beans.

(Yeah. Not so good with describing things. Roll with me)

Huh. I thought to myself. Maybe if I shove this butter knife into this little whatever, I'll get the grinder to work.

After I unplug it, of course. I'm not that dumb.

So I did. And then plugged it back in.

And nothing happened.

My brain quickly started calculating how long it would be before I got the three eldest kids out the door to school, before the new kid showed up and was made to feel comfortable and the amount of time it would take to get my 5 dressed and ferried to the car before I realized I didn't have a car seat for the new kid and that I wouldn't be able to grab coffee before noon, when I dropped the girls off at Kindergarten.

No. Too torturous.

Wait. Rawr was out of town. Rawr has ground coffee (savage).

It was simple. I would just break into Rawr's house and explain later.

Satisfied with my solution, I plopped the grinder down on the counter, then jumped about a foot when the motor sputtered to life, spraying coffee beans everywhere.

Ask me how that works when the lid is supposed to be on in order to grind the beans.

Well, normally one would take the butter knife out of the machine before haphazardly throwing it down on the counter.

In the end, I got my coffee, the new kid showed up, and all the kids made it to school without Zombie Mom forgetting their lunches.

I'd call that a mildly successful morning.
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