BitterSweetLife

Ever since he was about a year old, Aidan and I have performed morning coffee ceremonies together. A coffee ceremony is similar to a tea ceremony, except that it is less formal, more manly, involves getting ground coffee in your hair, and is frequently performed in your underwear. The last is due to the urgent nature of the coffee ceremony and the fact that it often takes place around 6 a.m.

Contrary to what I portray on the blog, Aidan is not allowed to drink coffee yet, because that would increase his already-remarkable powers of levitation to the point where he would not only steal bananas off the top of the frig, but would create murals with crayons on our ten-foot ceilings.

This morning, he made his latest attempt to rip off my cappuccino. I frothed some extra milk into microfoam on our Solis SL-70 espresso machine (SOLIS SL-70, SOLIS SL-70--don't you wish you had an espresso machine named after a lethal fighter jet?) and gave it to him in his dedicated "coffee" cup. He picked it up in both hands, slowly upended it like a frat boy draining a pint, and slammed it down on the coffee table. Then he started circling me, chanting, "More coffee in cup, more coffee in cup, more coffee in cup."

This was eerie and surreal for several reasons, not the least because Aidan was a spitting image of me, the way I usually behave anytime before 10 in the morning. I was like, OK, you really captured me there, how did you do that? Did your mom coach you? It was cool and scary to see a miniature of myself, circling at knee level, perfectly willing to present himself as a child beggar in order to procure more coffee.

And the funny thing is, he's not even on the juice yet, but he has grasped the fundamental importance of the entity, COFFEE, nonetheless. I am very, very proud.