When I was little Papa would drive me to school. We'd listen to NPR's Morning Edition and Papa would drink coffee out of a normal mug ( no travel mug for him!), he'd balance the mug on the dashboard which was pretty precarious, but there was no cupholder for mugs in his truck. He'd take a sip, we'd swerve a little, he'd make an "ahhhhh!" sound and he'd position the mug back on the dash so that he could focus on yelling at the Liberals on NPR.
These memories are so strong that I can literally smell the coffee and hear Bob Edwards voice.
And now, already, Ransom also associates the sound of the hot water kettle ( with which we make the hot water for the French Press coffee) with his Daddy ( this morning I was making a cup of decaf and he heard the sound and literally ran yelling "Daddy!" into the kitchen), and any time he sees any mug at all he says "caught-tee?"
I am so glad that Ransom's own childhood memories will be just as permeated with the smell and sounds of coffee...There is something kind of comforting about it. While its really not that important-I doubt that I could have married a non-coffee drinker. For the sake of our children. ;-)
P.S. Will it ever NOT be heartbreaking when Ransom asks for his Daddy and he's not able to be there?!?!