My husband and I have been married for sixteen years and I love him dearly. He does have one character flaw, though. He doesn't drink coffee. He doesn't like coffee. He has never even tried coffee. Now, that's just wrong.
I, on the other hand, love my morning cappuccino. Between my Bialetti stovetop coffee maker and my Barista espresso machine (a gift from a wonderful sister-in-law!) I wake up every morning with Starbucks at my fingertips. For me it's a comforting ritual, one that is carried out in the early dawn when everything is still quiet and peaceful.
My husband just doesn't get it. I was making my morning cappuccino recently when I offered to make him one as well. He didn't even answer; he just made a face.
"How can you not like coffee? You've never tried it." I remarked, determined to ignore the fact that he was shuddering.
"Why do I want to start drinking something that I can get addicted to?" he asked, sounding too much like the engineer that he is.
"I am not addicted." But I was getting perturbed. And defensive. "I only have one cappuccino in the morning and sometimes one in the afternoon."
"I have seen you when you haven't had your coffee," he observed. "You're addicted."
Until he wakes up and smells the coffee, I'll just enjoy drinking mine!