My Darling B has converted me to a coffee-with-cream kind of guy. I didn’t even drink coffee for the first two-thirds of my life but when I finally did give myself over to starting the day with a mug of the bitter stuff, I drank it black because my gut can’t handle dairy. I take pills when I want to enjoy a bowl of ice cream or a couple slices of cheese, but I never considered taking a pill every morning to mitigate the effects of lactose intolerance so I could enjoy cream in my coffee.
Then the other day I noticed, while I was preparing a mug of coffee for B, that the creamer she bought was lactose-free. I didn’t know there was such a thing. Curious, I stole a sip of coffee from her mug after I’d mixed the usual amount of cream and sugar into it, and was pleasantly surprised at how good it tasted, so I experimented with my own coffee, adding a little cream, a little sugar until I found the blend that I liked. And just like that, I’m a convert.
Learning of the deliciousness of coffee with cream and sugar is probably a mixed blessing, because it’ll probably lead to drinking way too much of it, although on a morning like this one where I woke up at oh-dark-thirty that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
This Is Drivel 