Since Greg has moved in, coffee, in all of its forms, has become a ubiquitous presence in my life. There is usually a path of coffee from the pot to the cup and from the cup to wherever Greg goes a la little Billy from the Family Circus. Little rings of coffee mark Greg stops along the Greg trail. I threw something in the trash the other day and somehow, my hand was covered in coffee grounds when I took it out of the trash can. Any water that the dishes in the sink are soaking in has a brownish tint to it. Coffee grounds have started finding their way under random appliances in the kitchen. Cans and bags of it live in the freezer.

And it’s not an annoyance to me, but more of a bewilderment and curiosity. I have to laugh everytime coffee appears in a new spot. Perhaps someday in the laundry.

At least I know that Greg will always be able to find his way home.