food

“Hey kids. This Mother’s Day, please get me something that makes me a better mother.”

Espressotoria
Thanks to our brand partner, Espressotoria

A wise man once said, get your wife a vacuum cleaner for Mother’s Day.

That wise man must have been single.

A wise man would buy his wife a vacuum cleaner for Father’s Day. And then use it himself, on a regular basis.

But, let’s be honest, a truly wise man would get a Mother’s Day gift that his wife would appreciate… Every. Single. Day. Potentially several times a day.

Yes, I speak of that joy of joys, that spark of sparks, the thrill of all thrills. Coffee.

While I can honestly say, my darling children light up my life, and are the apple of my eye, the core of my heart, there’s one thing I can’t live without, one thing that isn’t them.

Please don’t mistake me. I feel this way about their father as well.

It’s coffee.

I need it.

It’s not just that I want it, or that it’s delicious. It’s that it literally feeds me.

It makes my soul cry out, ‘macchiato, per favore. il caffè è la vita.’

It doesn’t judge me as I stumble bleary eyed out of bed, suffering from a case of baby-was-up-all-night-again-itis.

It’s what drives me. It’s the thing that makes feeding you breakfast every morning before I battle to get you into your clothes for the day ahead possible.

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Alys and her son. Image: supplied.

Coffee is quiet, save the clink of the spoon against a cup gently stirring in a half teaspoon of sugar.

It’s hot, to warm my cold arms because I’ve forgotten to put my own jacket on after running around finding jackets for everyone else.

It zings into my brain, waking me up to face the news of the day and the rush of work.

In the brief moments after I order my morning coffee and before the barista finishes making it, I consider the possibility that I might love the barista more than my husband.

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There’s only one solution.

Yes. I will have to leave my husband and children, and run away with the barista.

No.

Okay. I’m joking.

"It zings into my brain, waking me up to face the news of the day and the rush of work." Image: supplied.

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The solution, we’ll have to find a way for my husband to replace the barista.

He will need to bring the café home.

On Mother’s Day,  a truly wise man would buy his wife six packs of Vittoria coffee capsules and thus earn himself a free Capino coffee machine to replace the café barista his wife dreams after longingly as she smells the brewing of a pure Arabica blend and listens to the gentle hum of the milk frother.

A truly wise man would organise his children into purchasing a gift that would not only save his marriage, but would the one thing his wife really wants.

Yes, family. It’s coffee that I want for Mother’s Day.

Premium quality coffee made with a sleek, stylish machine that can forever live under the same roof as I do, so I can satisfy my needs whenever I damn well please.

Put away your massage vouchers and your scented candles (although, just keep that coffee scented one for later, perhaps). Keep your fancy moisturisers and face creams for another time.

Find me a way to get the fuel to my fire into my house. Get me hot, strong coffee in my own kitchen and I will never ever look at the barista again.

I promise.

What are you asking for this Mother's Day?