morning coffee.

I hear the doorknob rattle as I’m about to get in the shower. I hear your baba say, “Mabel! Bù! Mama xǐzǎo!” (He’s protective of my time alone and I appreciate that.) I hear you say something about coffee and then the doorknob rattles again. I walk over and open the door, see you standing there holding a little red cup. “Coffee, Mama! Put it here,” pointing to the spot where your baba leaves my coffee every morning.

I thank you and tell you I can’t wait to drink it. You smile and close the door.

Later, while I’m washing my hair, I hear you asking your baba, “Whatchu doin’?! No! I made Mama coffee!” He fibs and tells you he’s making coffee for himself.

I get out of the shower and find two cups of coffee waiting for me. How lucky I am to be loved by you both. Who knew morning coffee could convey so much?