I would like to think that I am master of my domain, king of my castle. My household is not run like a democracy, it is a staunch dictatorship with a noticeable draconian flair. Oh, and in case you do not yet understand the gist of my nub, I am ensconsed as the supreme poobah. If I want to scarf down pudding cups for supper, gosh darn it, those beauties will be mine. Vegetables? Hah, I scoff at them. They will gain no foothold in my kingdom. If I wish to go swimming after eating without waiting a full 30 minutes, there will be nobody to say one thing to me. I will even run from place to place with scissors in my hand if I so choose.The other morning, as I was getting ready for work, I was patiently waiting for the coffee maker to finish its perk, perk, perk-olating. I just wanted to grab my cup o' java and get on with my day. As I was standing there, I noticed a label on my Mr.-Coffee-brand coffee maker that pointed out its desireable and stealthy "sneak-a-cup" feature. Hey, wait just a cotton-pickin' minute. Did I miss a memo or something? If I want a bean-infused beverage in my own home, I will not sneak around. This is not like the kid furtively approaching the cookie jar in search of a forbidden treat. If he were to be busted in this endeavor, then he will instantly develop an attitude of shame. He knows that he will receive a strong rebuke and subsequent harsh punishment. As for me, I refuse to be subservient to a coffee machine! I will have my fill of the dark mud when I want without the "man" (i.e. Joe Dimaggio) making me feel like I am doing something wrong.
