There is for me a red-faced shame in indulgence, whether it’s buying razors, actually peeing alone, or vanity. The one thing I am absolutely unapologetic about is my joy derived from coffee. Thinking about it, drinking it, making it, smelling it it all just really does it for me.
Mornings when I come downstairs and it is already brewing? There are no words, it is Christmas morning at age 7. Days when I make it myself? Almost as magical. The other morning I was preparing to brew some magic and as I turned on the water and held the carafe beneath the flow I yawned. Standing barefoot and blind I grabbed the canister from the cabinet. Turning to set it down I felt more than heard it happen. A crack. A lightning rod of destruction.
I think I might have shrieked, “I’m melting.” I prepared to unleash a rainbow of words to illustrate my devastation when Sean rode in on what I am pretty sure was a white steed and did this:

Saved!
Good save!
I would be lost without my morning French Vanilla . . .
your hubby's the best.
i have been back and forth between the espresso machine and the press lately.
ahh…. coffee!
A disaster averted! I share your love of the joe. My wife hates it, but loves the smell. Someday she'll wise up.
Brilliant!
after being so shaken and traumatized, however did you find it within you to do this post? (hee hee, i'm a coffee whore too, ok…i've never called it that, but it fits, at least for me)
Oh, he's a keeper!
Hilarious. Men can be so surprisingly resourceful. You should put that picture up on your fridge.
That is love, right there.
it just looks so cute!
who wants tea anyways?
You are a lucky woman! I am having so much fun reading your site! thank you for introducing me to the blogoshpere!
I tried giving up coffee a couple of weeks ago and found out an important life lesson.
Life sucks without coffee.
Thank god Sean found a solution.
ahhh yes coffee
clever man. i love coffee too. two cups at home every morning, and that's it. i almost never drink it out of the house, because it's never as good.