Spilling the Coffee-with-Politics Onto My Family

Over Christmas weekend, I stayed with my parents. One night, I stayed up just a wee bit past everyone else's bedtime (fell asleep at 6am), thinking I had to wake up at 9am to pick up a friend from the airport. I awoke in the unfamiliar bed, in the unfamiliar room where I once grew up, far too little sleep under my belt.

I am not the most pleasant person in the mornings, even when I get a good night's sleep. Every lover I have had since moving to Chicago has refused to discuss anything of import or consequence with me before my second cup of coffee.

When I dragged myself to the kitchen, my parents were overeager to feed me breakfast before I left, pestering me with all the unimportant questions and not once offering me the truly important thing.

Coffee? I slurred.

"Uh....we have instant. Will that do?"

I just about detonated. ( Read more... )