So I have not had coffee in a looooong time. Lost my taste for it a few years ago and even if I wanted it, the whole pregnant-caffeine-question still looms. (And then there are the chemicals in de-decaf process that are raising health questions too.) But then I received this marvelous scrumptious irresistable package in the mail... "beskuit" or rusks from South Africa! A biscotti-like delicacy that is best complimented by good strong coffee. And I craved it. I coveted it. I secreted saliva over it. Scott foresaw trouble with 2 drooling individuals in the house - Devan doing it is enough. So he dashed off to find naturally decaf coffee. Aroma Underground (new coffee shop in town with all free-trade coffee) to the rescue!
This morning presented the perfect oppertunity to savor the treat... we were up early - Scott had a kayak trip and needed a hand with some things - but I complaineth not.. why?... because there is "Koffie en Beskuit". I ground the beans, boiled the water, dumped all in the French-press, picked up a beskuit...
And then Devan woke up.
I ignored him.
He did not want to be ignored this morning.
No problem. I could have my treat and feed him at the same time... not. Somehow this morning's breakfast commanded 7 arms and 3 bibs. But that's OK. He would finish eating soon enough, play a little and then I would take a Koffie en Beskuit break.
So after a longer-than-normal-breakfast (for messy reasons) he takes off to play - diaperless. This usually is a safe thing to do this time of morning. We typically have an hour of leak-free nakedness to air out little dimpled buttocks. But somehow, this morning, the timing of his little plumbing system was off. I had barely dipped my beskuit in the koffie when I heard a faint squirt... followed by a loud ha-ha-haaaa. Delighted in his skill, Devan was making a puddle on my dragon fly rug. Oh well. Such is (diaperless) life.
We ventured outside to rinse both boy and rug with the hose. Rug got clean. Boy happily got muddy. I delayed going back into the house to ensure that all reserves of his untimely watertank would be shed on the grass outside rather than on something else inside. He didn't mind the delay. He was a happy Adam. It was almost nap time when we went back in and I quickly stopped for a sip of luke warm koffie and not-yet-soggy beskuit before diapering him again. But then this whisper of an all too familiar sound pentrated my 2 seconds of koffie en beskuit peace...
Nooooooooooooooooo! How could it be? In exactly the same spot - this time just on the wooden floor in the absence of the rug. A lake. And a little foot splashing it exploringly onto the wall.
We left the lake, washed the foot, put a diaper on and... ahhh... he went to bed and I went to... koffie en beskuit. Cold koffie and hopelessly soggy pulp - once (way back in the bright beginnings of this day) recognized as beskuit.
WIth bitter-sweet emotions I washed my cup. Thankful for the after taste (in memory of the few tasty bites I did have) still hugging my tastebuds, I dreamily set my hopes on tomorrow morning. Yes, maybe tomorrow I'll take a (diapered) koffie en beskuit break...