Joely Sue Burkhart

In which I embarrass myself with a revolting coffee story…

As you know, I was in St. Paul all last week for the Evil Day Job.  Since I left Sunday morning at 4:30 a.m., I didn’t have time to wash my pot out before leaving.  That Man doesn’t drink coffee unless I make it, so my pot sat empty until Saturday when I eagerly rushed to the kitchen to make my home-brewed Caribou.

I washed the pot parts out well and started the brew.  I had two kinds of half and half in the fridge:  regular and fat-free.  I’ve been drinking the fat free and sniffed it carefully before using it, since the container was nearly empty and dated 4/22.  It smelled fine.  The regular half and half hadn’t been opened yet, so I cracked it open to extend my fat-free stuff (what I’ve coined “half-half-half”).  I sat down with my favorite cup, and…

It was nasty.  Ugh.  It tasted rotten.  We had errands to run (like picking out the monsters’ Build-A-Bear toys) so I didn’t make any more until that night.  Even after washing the pot again, it still tasted revolting.  I was really starting to panic.  I hadn’t even been able to drink a full cup yet!  (Considering how much I typically drink, I was nearly ready to declare a national emergency.)

Sunday morning, I took the pot apart again, filled the sink with scalding hot water, and let it sit in soapy water while I examined the pot carefully.  Jokingly, I told That Man to look for a dead mouse or something in my pot.  It tasted that bad.  Princess Monster offered to bring me a cup when it was done, which I gratefully accepted.  She came rushing in with half and half dripping down her chin, her face faintly green.  “Mom, this stuff tastes horrible.”

(Ah, the truth comes out.  She only offered to get me a cup so she could sneak a drink of my cream directly out of the carton!)

I took a whiff and UGH.  It was so totally rotten.  I never thought to check the real half and half because I hadn’t even OPENED it yet.  It was dated May.  Somewhere, somehow, that carton got too warm.

Gag.

It’s almost enough to turn me off half and half completely.

Almost.