Mug attachment


When Tim & I married a decade ago, we quickly realized that, somewhat conveniently, neither of us function well before having a cup of coffee. During that first naive blissful year of marriage, still using my old grad school drip coffee-maker and buying whole bean coffee from Sam’s club, we’d grind the coffee and fill the pot at night before bed, so Tim the first person up could just walk into the kitchen and hit the brew button. Once the first few sips were administered, we could coherently discuss plans for the day.

Many things have changed about our coffee-drinking habits. One year we graduated to a drip maker with a timer, so the coffee could brew before waking and we could sip within 30 seconds of morning consciousness. Then we upgraded to local coffee, splitting huge 5-pound bags, bought straight from the roaster, with friends. These days Tim roasts all of our coffee (yes, I drink the best coffee in the world, every single morning), and we’re quite attached to our Bodum stainless-steel french press.

But one thing that hasn’t changed? Our mugs.

This was not a conscious decision. We didn’t wake up one day and say, hey, let’s be really cute, and pick out a couple of mugs that we drink out of every day, just for fun(!). We simply, out of habit, began drinking out of the same mugs everyday. Tim’s choice was a thick, heavy mug from Krispy Kreme, gifted to me during grad school by a friend whose wedding program I had designed. My choice was a bit more petite, but also substantial, a restaurant-ware mug from a thrift store (go figure).

The mug love? It runs deep.

So deep, that on more than one occasion, when we’ve had guests in our house and I come downstairs to find one of them sipping coffee out of my mug, I first twitch a little, then wring my hands, try to keep quiet, start perspiring, reach for another perfectly-acceptable mug, and then break down. I confess my need for my mug. My guest might giggle or roll her eyes, then she realizes I’m serious, and graciously allows me to pour her half-cup of coffee into another (perfectly acceptable) mug.

About a year ago, Tim set his mug on top of his car, got the kids buckled into their carseats, and drove away. As you can imagine, Krispy Kreme was instantly krispy and creamed. He walked back into the house, with sadness on his face and the collected pieces in his hands, and somehow our world seemed to hang suspended in a haze of doubt.

What did this mean? I couldn’t help but wonder.

Thankfully, his snafu was not prophetic of any impending plague or demise, and Tim being Tim, he got over it quickly and just found a random mug to drink out of every morning.

But me? I couldn’t let it rest. I needed my husband to drink from the Krispy Kreme mug. It was our way.

So, enter a random holiday in which a gift was in order (Father’s Day? birthday? can’t remember). I did a quick search on ebay and found the exact same Krispy Kreme mug, which I bid on and won decisively (not a whole lot of bidding wars going on for coffee mugs). It arrived, Tim opened his gift, and responded with an overwhelming, “Um, okay, cool. Yeah, this is great, a new mug, just like my old one. Um, thanks, yeah, thanks a lot.”

Little did he realize how I had preserved our world.




13 thoughts on “Mug attachment

  1. When I started reading this, I thought I could relate because I drink out of the same mug every day. But then I realized you’ve been drinking out of the same mug FOR TEN YEARS. And while I drink out of the same mug day after day, the mug gets replaced every six months or so, whenever I find a prettier option.

    Also, my really thoughtful gifts for Joe tend to garner the same reaction as Tim’s. I think he’ll be blown away and he’s like, “Oh…thanks. I guess I did mention I liked this four months ago, didn’t I?”

    1. Well, I mean, how could you possibly drink from the same mug for 10 years? You would’ve been, what, about 12 then? What parent lets their 12-year old drink coffee???

      And, see, the problem is that there is no prettier option. My mug is The Mug of Perfection.

  2. I had a mug at work that had old Sears catalog ads around it that looked aged like Tim’s. I must have used it for 10 years or more until washing it one morning I dropped it. It took me a while to find an adequate replacement. At home these days, I tend to stay with one a while then someone will give me a new one for some reason and I just change. There is hope for you!

  3. One word. Men.

    So, to make up for that one moment when Tim, who sounds like an altogether great guy did not respond appropriately, let me say this for him:

    “Honey, REALLY? You found another one? My mug? (said with tears starting to well in his eyes). I always knew but you just proved again, you are the BEST wife ever!

  4. Whew, that’s good to hear. I have this mug that I love. It’s just plain white with a pen and ink of Bach on it. It has been the bearer of my beloved coffee for at least ten years. Joseph has taken to imitating me drinking coffee from it in the morning after I’m done. A few times I’ve found it in his Mega Blocks dump truck.

    1. whew, indeed. I finally know another person who has used the same cup for 10 years.

      And you’re a better mom than I — no way I’d let my kids play w/ my mug : )

  5. He just has no idea how fortunate he is to have you keeping his life rolling on the tracks, does he? My gifts to Nate are always highly appreciated because ever since we have been married, he started buying his own presents, wrapping them up, and acting surprised. It’s one of the things I love most about him. And it makes Christmas so much easier. The first year it was just kind of funny and maybe caused me to wonder if he didn’t like my gifts. But after the kids starting arriving, I just clapped my hands and said “I just knew you would like it!”

  6. Funny stuff! And I’m jealous of your coffee. You should do a post on the proper way to use a french press – I manage to screw my coffee up about every time I use it…

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