One of These Things is Not Like the Others

Let’s play a children’s game shall we? Please sing along:

One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn’t belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?

• Cribs
• Glider Rocking Chair
• Infant Car Seats
• Double Stroller (the size of a small SUV)
• Coffee Maker
• High Chairs
• Sweet Children’s Book

Did you guess which thing was not like the others?
Did you guess which thing just doesn’t belong?
If you guessed this one is not like the others,
Then you’re absolutely…right!

Good job! You noticed that a coffee maker is not like the other items. It is not baby gear to help make the twins arrival more comfortable. Babies don’t drink coffee! And in this case, neither do their pregnant mommy or their daddy. Yet, the above lists items we have received as gifts for the boys.

Several days ago, a very insistent UPS man arrived at the door. He rang the doorbell, and waited. He knocked, and waited. The dogs continued to go ballistic (A friend! A friend! I must meet this very exciting person who obviously wants to say hello to me!!!) I finally decided it might be important and waddled over to open the door. “I need a signature” the UPS man greeted me.

I wasn’t expecting anything, so I assumed it must be something for the boys. We’ve been receiving packages for them recently since there were baby showers planned for me (now canceled). It was in a CuisinArt CoffeeMaker box. But hey – who doesn’t reuse boxes for shipping? (My brother received his Christmas gift bundled in a sewing machine box last year because that is the box I had lying around.)

Inside the box was a <drum roll please . . .> CuisinArt CoffeeMaker! It is a black classic 12-cup machine for the java aficionados out there. Now, we have a small espresso machine we received as a wedding gift that is used for the occasional tasty latte or mocha. And I’ve been known to indulge in a variety of tea colors (black, green, white). Then I saw the programmable caffeinator was from Grandma Janet (or Meemaw if no preferred name is settled upon).

I used my impressive deductive reasoning skills, honed from reading every single “Encyclopedia Brown, Boy Detective” book in my youth (let’s admit it – this one isn’t really a Sherlock Holmes caliber mystery). Grandma Janet had not sent the boys (or their parents) a coffee maker. Grandma Janet had sent herself a coffee maker.

My mother has been making more trips up to visit lately – from shopping for baby furniture to futility trying to comfort me in the hospital – and plans to spend more time once the boys arrive. Given that these are her first grandchildren, I assume we will be seeing a lot of her in the future.

Previously, my parents would visit for a weekend perhaps once or twice a year. Despite our lovely home, complete with a very nice guest suite (if I do say so myself), each visit saw a replay of a typical morning routine:

“Oh geez, you guys don’t have a coffee maker!”
“No, we don’t drink coffee every morning.”
“Starbucks. Where is the nearest Starbucks?”
“Around the corner, we’re (and by this I mean Jon) is happy to go get you something.”
“Phew. I would like a latte.”
“We do have an espresso machine. I can make you a latte.”
“No, I don’t like espresso.”

After a Starbucks run, my caffeinated parents would drink and discuss the tragedy of our lack of coffee awaiting them the moment they wake up. I did not previously realize their coffee addiction was so intense that my mother would need a 12-cup machine, but I’m happy to enable all future coffee junkies since I imagine having two needy infants will only intensify the need for the habitual morning coffee(s).

I for one, will stick with my tea. But if you come by – expect to be offered a cup of joe. Or 12.