Lloyd has a cold, so after work I went to Wal*Mart to get some restorative stuff for him and some other junk for the rest of life. When I came home to the pitch-black, quiet house with arms full of bags and boxes, I was greeted by the strong scent of….. coffee?
With cats circling my feet, screaming to be fed, I walked the 15 feet through the darkness with thoughts racing. “Did Lloyd try to make coffee? Maybe something’s burning? No, that’s definitely coffee. Do I have coffee in a crock pot?” I knew I didn’t leave the coffee pot on because I drink instant every morning and the pot is in the basement for when company comes.
I flicked on the light and all was made clear.
When I made that saltine/toffee stuff? I took the coffee out of the freezer to make room.
Like an idiot, I put in on top of the fridge.
The knuckleheads found it.
Dang it! Dang it! Dang it!
I scooped the very top part off and am now making some cold-brew concentrate with it. The rest went into the garbage. So, so wasteful.
At least it gives me a chance to show you that a week or so ago I hung the whisk broom inside the kitchen cupboard and have used it several times. ‘Yay’ for organization!
Oh, and the paper towel holder on the other side? I am still on my first roll of paper towels.
Deborah says
Rats!
Kristi says
Blast those cats.
Kristi says
You should brew the part that fell on the floor and make them drink it. That will teach them.
Brad says
If something’s going to spill, at least that is a good-smelling thing to spill. Mmmm… coffee…
Gretchen says
bummer. Last weekend I dropped a full carafe of (hot) coffee. Not only did I get to enjoy the scent of freshly brewed coffee (but not the taste) but I also got to treat myself to a fancy new French press coffee pot! Unfortunately, unlike you, I cannot blame our cat.