Blogprov: Winner: [Kaelia]
[ARCHIVE: One of the first times I explored a female point of view. Definitely not the last, though]
I've never understood precisely how non-dairy creamer fit into this world. More than half of all Americans over the age of eighteen, that's 107 million people, drink coffee daily on the average of three and a half cups per person. And while there isn't anything inherently wrong with it, caffeine can have addictive qualities when consumed in large quantities when consumed for long, continuous durations.
Every morning that I woke up in my mother's household, there was the smell of coffee. It was there while I stood outside the bathroom waiting for my brother to get done. It was there while I feverously blow-dried my hair. It was there while my sister and I fought over who would drive to school that day. Coffee was the smell of home. Of comfort. Of Mother.
Mom couldn't survive the day without coffee. Four daughters and two sons sapped her energy before she could take a break. She had one of those stainless-steel-and-rubber numbers with the no-spill cap in her hand at ever hour of the day. We used to joke that the cup was actually a battery and if you took it out of her hand, Mom would deactivate like a robot.
The funny thing is that as much as she needed it, she never shared her passion, even when we reached high school. She would deny us, explaining that "...you drink too much coffee and your teeth will turn brown. Then we'll see if Bobby will want to go out with you then." This in turn would make Paige mad at me, misinterpreting Mom looking at me while she spoke as an admission on my part that I had in some way conspired to steal her crush from her. How horrible a sister I was!
Mom knew this would cause trouble but continued to do this for years, substituting whatever boy Paige was swooned for and I could care less about. Finally, I got fed up and confronted her about it. "Mom, why do you keep doing this You know that I don't care about Jack," (Jack being my sister's Flavor of the Month,) "Why do you keep making up stories that I'm trying to do Paige harm?
Mom set her coffee down on the table, keeping both her hands wrapped around it for warmth. "Ginny, do you remember what I say about non-dairy creamer?"
Rolling my I eyes, I replied. "You tell us that coffee is too good to settle for less then the real thing." I was trying to avoid inter-sibling warfare and she was testing me on her supposed virtues of coffee.
"That's right. There is never a reason to settle for less than the real thing. You remember that," she nodded mysteriously, and then took a sip. And it was then that I realized what she was doing. The squabbles, the constant defending on my part, the piece-by-piece deconstruction of every fault and flaw of every boy was not for my benefit. I didn't need to tell myself why these boys weren't right, my sister did. Because deep down, she knew that her standards were also higher then these substitutes.
So, ladies, raise your lattes and join me in this toast to the bride-to-be. Paige, it's been a long wait, but your coffee is finally ready.