I wish this post was about drinking coffee. I like drinking coffee. No sugar, lots of organic cream, great way to start the day. And a second cup in the afternoon to fight off sluggishness? Yes please!
What I am not excited about is the rumblings around our home that I’ve heard over the last few months about the purported benefits of ‘coffee enemas.’ Yes, you may just want to skip this post, that’s basically where this is going. No, it’s not happened. Probably it would be too personal to write about. But my point is this:
I’m being groomed.
I suspect that my wife knows that I will be resistant to new ideas, new ideas that involve putting foods and drinks into places that they weren’t intended to go. Lots of new things are out there that I won’t want to do. New is scary, and she gets that. So she slowly wears me down, gets me used to an idea. Just mentions it in passing, like before bed, and then after a few months the initial shock is over, she mentions it again, or sends me a link about whatever while I’m trying to work, knowing I probably won’t actually read the article about whatever, but just that it’s another ping on my consciousness, another small chip in my defenses.
Even now as I write this, I think to myself, would it be all that bad? Lots of people are doing it. I’ve been aware of it for a while now, it seems almost more normal…
HUSBANDS – Beware the casual mention! One week it’s just a comment, next month a discussion, next year you’re pricing out a geo-dome fallback position in the mountains with an option to lease milk & cheese producing heritage-breed goats!
Of course, that’s just another play.
After that price-shock you won’t even blink when it comes time for your first coffee enema.
NEXT WEEK, ON THE CRUNCHY DUNGEON:
After several days of increasing pain, I begin to suspect that I had somehow been injected with a deadly nerve toxin. And after the pain began to spread, I began to wonder if I was perhaps experiencing the early stages of something that would eventually kill me. Something that would spread to my vitals, like my heart or brain.