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Saturday morning we were cleaning the house and cutting the lawn (you can imagine who was "we" in those tasks), and when I can inside from pushing the lawnmower around, I heard the coffee pot doing its thing. Now, keep in mind that it's like 95 in the shade outside and the A/C in the house is struggling to keep the temp at 72.
"Having a cup of coffee?" I ask as I pour a glass of water for myself over ice.
"Ugh," she says. "I have a headache, and I tried a Coke but it did't work. It doesn't give me that feeling of warmth and comfort and security that coffee does."
Hmph, I thought. And I didn't get to finish my thought.
"It's kinda like liquid husband," she said, "except that it can't cut the lawn."
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