Life Through Coffee
Growing up, my Irish father and Vietnamese mother seldom agreed on anything. Countless arguments were a constant presence in my household, some more heated than others. Despite the high tensions in the household, there was always one item that brought my parents together:
Coffee.
The first memories of being in the kitchen with my parents involved a cup of coffee. Back in the 80’s and 90’s, most people drank Folgers coffee (a real treat back then) from a Mr. Coffee drip machine. My parents always had a hand-me-down coffee mug of some kind, never matching of course, and they never failed to drink their coffee black. No matter how ugly the fight the night before, the two of them would somehow find a way to sit down and have coffee together the next morning.