Cut to two kids later  and I’m finally coming around to the idea that I need coffee, or more specifically caffeine, to survive.

But I’ve been balking at this realization. I don’t want to succumb to the dragon’s breath that is in my future. As I’ve written before, my mom’s dragon breath has haunted me for decades and I’m not ready to submit my daughter to the same torture. Although now I like the idea of making her put up with my bad breath…she makes me put up with her shenanigans, so why not get some revenge where I can?!

First off, I’m not a hot drink kind of person. I don’t like to deal with a burnt tongue all day. However, I just learned that coffees come iced. Second, I discovered the wonderful world of lattes. They have more sugar than a Willy Wonka chocolate factory, which is right up my alley.

My kind of coffee

Recently I ordered a vanilla latte while the hubby ordered a plain iced coffee. I took a drink of mine, slightly grimaced at the coffee taste, but realized I could power through it for the caffeine buzz at the end of the rainbow. So what if it left an aftertaste as if I’d been licking the cat’s butt. Then I took a quick swig of the hubby’s and about vurped. I had the worst bitter beer face. That shit was lethal. Tasted like ass roasted in cow dung. At least what I imagine ass roasted in cow dung would taste like. I went back to my vanilla latte and it was pure heaven. Sweet, sugary heaven.

Now I’m on a quest to make my own iced lattes at home because I had a coffee epiphany. Coffee is crack–legalized crack. It makes everything better.

Makes me like my kids better. Makes me feel like I can conquer the world…or at least deal with my two *screaming idiots* for twelve straight hours without wanting to ship them to Siberia every other minute.

No wonder my mom consumed three daily pots of coffee since I can remember. Mummy really does know best!

*Screaming idiots is a term of endearment in our household*