Call Me Mr. Coffee Maker

I now have a Keurig coffee maker.

I didn’t really want a coffee maker.

I didn’t even need a coffee maker.

First attempt at making coffee with a coffee maker.

But at some point in recent history, my mother received a coffee maker as a present. She set it up, used it a few times, then decided that she didn’t want it. So now I have a coffeemaker.

“Do you drink coffee?” she asked a week ago, via Zoom.

“I drink a cup of regular tea every morning, since coffee has too much caffeine for me,” I replied. “I generally wake up around 6:30 am, so I started having a cup of decaf in my office around 9:30 am.”

“Do you need a coffee maker?” she asked.

“I’m only having two cups of decaf a week, if that,” I replied.

She explained that the Keurig was in a sturdy recycling bag in a shopping cart next to her parking spot inside her apartment building (How she got a shopping cart into the garage is a story I’ll inquire about for another day).

“Just come by and we’ll open the garage door and use social distancing to close it once you leave,” she said.

I demurred. “I’ll see if I can get over to Long Island.”

Two days later we spoke again.