Dude always loved coffee. Probably since birth. Maybe even before that. And the Internet was much smaller back then, so we didn’t have a million opinions on how to do parenting properly. So we fed him coffee. And decaf is only consumed by the spawn of Satan, so we gave him the real thing. *insert gasps of a thousand moms
Relax. He’s fine. Sort of. He has a weird twitch every time someone says ‘coffee’ or when he sees a Starbucks. Even though I suspect the Starbucks-twitch has nothing to do with the fact that they serve coffee but more with the fact that girls hang around the place like antelope around a pool of water during the dry season.
I do remember he had a little trouble sleeping as a toddler, if you consider “a little trouble sleeping” to be a kid who woke up seven times a night. Further proof that parents aren’t perfect and we shouldn’t be judged on specific things we did wrong. Parental success is based on a series of hits and misses and praying that the hits stick like bubblegum to a ponytail and the misses falls into an abyss of forgotten trauma. So besides the twitch and the third nipple he developed on his back, I’m sure there are no permanent side-effects to caffeine.
Decent coffee is made from boiling water because otherwise it tastes like shit. So throughout most of his life we made it for him. We’re certainly not the type of parents who would expect a three year old to collect wood before sunrise, start a fire, carry water for seven miles and then handle a pot of boiling water just to make coffee. He did that when he was five. The basic idea for exposing him to caffeine at such a young age was so that he would get hooked, then one day meet a sexy barista, who is the bored daughter of a filthy rich mogul, charmed by Dude’s great sense of humour and who doesn’t run away when he shows her the third nipple. Then they fall in love, get married and invite us to live out our days in a cottage on their estate, built on one of the Caribbean islands they own…
Where was I?
Oh making coffee.
When he was smaller, we diluted the strength and temperature of the coffee because we are only semi-irresponsible. This morning as I was making coffee for Dude, the Wife and I, (because Princess is a princess and princesses drink tea), it dawned on me how I’m not diluting his coffee anymore. He takes his coffee just like Dad.
It was another nostalgic moment for me, realizing how he is growing out of all his little kid habits, developing a whole bunch of new adult ones. Like shaving and driving a car and inviting a girl to our house and laughing at R-rated jokes that he hides from Wife and taking his coffee like a big man.
How I miss that little kid who used to have the diluted, milky, cold coffee served in a Spiderman sippy cup.