"I'M A LITTLE TEA POT"

 OKAY,  I know it is supposed to say,

"I'm a little Tea Pot..." but it's not, its a coffee pot!

I know you all are swooning out there.

When R and I used to scour the antique and thrift stores,

I was always looking for a percolator that was not just for show

and in my price range, which is.... well, cheap.

A deal gets my heart rate up.

As many of my friends know I love sitting around a table

with a cup of coffee, dessert, friends and talk.

I am not a Keurig girl. It never makes me enough coffee

and Pods just don't seem like the way a cup of coffee should start.

I should add here though, when I visit my sister and brother in law,

I look forward to their Keuring because it means an early sit down

with my brud before anyone else wakes up. Love that!

Okay, back to the story. 

This week while scouring yet another

antique store I come across the perfect metal, red (My favorite color) pot,

and it even has the old cotton cord.... Oh yes, I think and as I read

the price tag, 20 dollars..... 20 DOLLARS!

I know this little baby is coming home with me!

There is a chance it may not work but for that price, it can sit in my

kitchen collecting dust. 

The morning after, I decide it is time to give this little pot a try.

I plug it in and wait, impatiently.

I hear noise, that is  a good sign.

Then I see it, water then coffee bubbling up into the glass topper.

My heart is a flipping. I can't stop watching it as I think of how 

many cups of coffee may have been served from this sweet thing.

I think of how many coffee dates I will be serving from this spout.

When it is ready I pour myself a cup, not in the thermal metal cup 

I normally use, This calls for a special cup, one that has coffee stains and

a plate that is made for that said cup. I add my condiments

and I sit to taste. 

.......... and just like that, if I close my eyes and daydream......

I am sitting at the red and white home built kitchen table,

the one that always has a jigsaw puzzle under the plastic table cloth.

My daddy is sitting there quietly working on his homemade castnets

as I wait for his homemade biscuits shaped like cigars to come

out the oven. I am transported to my childhood where everything

was right in the world and life was safe and simple because 

someone else was responsible for me.

I know for this experience, I would have paid triple what the

price tag read on this little red percolator.