As I look down and see my husband’s white sock covered with spilled coffee grounds…and as I look up and see him holding the coffee filter somewhat askew while he attempts to maintain a conversation with me…and as I witness more wet grounds splattered on the kitchen floor and up the wall by the garbage bin, I say the only thing that I can think to say.
‘Step away from the kitchen, sir…step AWAY from my kitchen…’
690 Saint Paul 