Chocolate and Salted Caramel Sandwich Cookies

I have a bruise the size of a grapefruit on my shin. I’ve been bumping into the corners of walls. I missed a step going downstairs and felt like I was going to plummet to my doom for a split second.

Coming back home has thrown me a bit off kilter. I’m happy as can be to be back where I belong and away from school, but it’s taking some getting used to. My body is used to the dimensions of my apartment. It remembers the feel of the floors. The layout of my kitchen.

Dark Chocolate Coffee Cupcakes with Marshmallow Coffee Buttercream

I get a lot of things from my dad. My brown eyes, olive skin, and “solid” build all come from him. My annoyingly obsessive attention to detail, dry sense of humor, and predisposition to mornings go to his credit too. While some of the traits I have gotten from him are genetic, I’ve also picked up a lot of learned behaviors from him over the years. Since I was a little girl I’ve been watching him and studying him and mimicking him – it’s only natural that some of his habits and traits would eventually become mine. For better or worse.

There’s one thing he does though that I will just not do. Never, ever will I be okay with doing this. Never, EVER. It is a habit so disgusting, so repulsive I can barely bring myself to write it (I’m really making you want one of those cupcakes up there, aren’t I?).

My father reuses day-old coffee.

There. I said it. And may have gotten a little queasy.