Coffee rocks man.

The last time I drank it, I almost memorized the whole A & P book through the night.

and in exchange, I was lectured for 7 hours on the various reasons on why I should not drink coffee. I reckoned the bottle of brazillian coffee would then be kept in boxes and put into larger boxes and after that, more larger boxes.

I am not exaggerating. Its my mother we are talking about.

never ever, underestimate her.

This time round, I sneaked in to the kitchen, attempting to secretly steal the bottle and make myself a cup of coffee.

I was half expecting my mother to be in full military fatigues and helmet standing guard with a bazooka right in front of the coffee.

However, the space was deserted.

I expect to pull out pots and pans. Open up boxes after boxes before I can find my precious coffee.

But no, no pots and pans. no boxes.

It lie right on the table. Nice and sweet.

Scanning around for the enemy, i mean my mother, I carefully made the coffee with the minimum amount of noise.

After 10 minutes, mission accomplished.

yes I know, I am in for 7 hours of lecture again.

but who cares when I got coffee already?