I used to hate the smell of coffee. I can remember washing my hair in the kitchen sink, my dad running the water in the sink next to mine until it got hot, then filling his coffee cup. As soon as the water hit the instant coffee at the bottom, a strong smell would drift over to me, and I would say something like “Gross, how can you stand to drink that?!”
Now I get it. I only drink half a cup, but there’s something about the ritual of that each morning, and the smell is a big part of the experience. All I have to do is smell hot coffee and I perk up, feel a little more awake. Luckily, I don’t have to put up with a kid telling me how gross it is. Sorry, Dad. I didn’t know then how wrong I was — about a lot of things.