There are a few things in life that are so insignificant and seem so normal that you don’t realize how odd they are until you suddenly come across the thought years later. I, approximately four days ago, had come to a sudden, weird realization about my life.
My dad and I have this tradition. Well, it’s not really a tradition. It’s more of a he-does-this-sometimes-but-I-tell-people-it’s-a-tradition thing. He gets me coffee whenever he drives me places. It’s usually black and without sugar. It’s bitter, and you’re probably wondering why anyone would like it.
Trust me, I’m wondering the same thing.
My mom, on the other hand, makes me coffee at home. She makes it creamy and very sugary. It’s a little too sugary and too creamy if I’m being honest. It’s completely on the other side of the spectrum compared to what my dad gives me.
What I realized four days ago, is that my parents never asked how I like my coffee and more importantly, I never told them. They both give me what they like to drink. And since they don’t talk about my coffee preferences with each other in casual conversation, neither of them is aware that they give me two very different types of coffee.
What struck me as really funny was that I never really cared to notice. I never corrected them. And since they don’t know, I’m basically playing both of them. I’m a double agent, working both sides.
I’m a double coffee agent.
I realize that I could’ve told them. But, truthfully, I could care less what my parents give me to drink because I don’t drink coffee a lot (much less know how to make it). I’ve come to appreciate both types of coffee, as strange as it sounds.
After this realization and more intense thinking, I’ve made up this ideal dream of how I’d like this entire debacle to play out.
I hope that years down the road when I’ve completed graduate school and made my own family, I’ll come back to my parents’ house and sit with them for a cup of coffee. (This dream involves me learning how to make coffee before this take place.) I will sit down with the cup of coffee I’ve made for myself and place it on the coffee table. In the midst of our conversation, both of their eyes, at the same exact time, will land on my cup of coffee. They will both spot the coffee that will be completely different than how either of them used to make it for me. (This dream also involves me getting an affinity for a completely different type of coffee.) Both of their eyes will widen in disbelief.
And boom.
I will finally reveal, that all those years ago, I never liked how either of them made my coffee. The whole thing was a ruse. They will give me a standing ovation and praise me, saying how I was an amazing actress. They will tell me how I should’ve won an Oscar for having both of them fooled for all those years.
Of course, I doubt that it’ll play out exactly like that, but a girl can dream, can’t she?