The Day I ALMOST Killed a Host Parent

I've decided to post this with pressure from my loving mother, who cried from laughing when I told her about this frankly horrifying encounter. Also: this was not published in the Quest. It may seem a little whiney, in an overly cliché bloggy way, but if you know anything about me, you know I need my coffee, and thusly, this is justified.

So, usually, in the morning, I wake up, getting showered/dressed, and then go into the kitchen to find breakfasty foods and coffee on.

Yesterday, I emerged, as usual, maybe a little more late than usual, to find the coffee pot upside down on the drying rack. Ghislain, one of my host parents, was in the kitchen peeling these weird, French mini apples that we always have in a bowl on the counter.

Nikki [in French]: Oh, is there no coffee this morning?
Ghislain [in French]: No, today I am eating apples. Would you like an apple?
Nikki: No...

It took me another thirty seconds to realize that there was, in fact, no coffee, and being late, as I was, I didn't have time to make any. I had to go to a 9:30am Monday class SANS COFFEE. I came dangerously close to drop-kicking the guy.

Seriously. Apples? WTF? How are apples a replacement for coffee? Are they laced with caffeine?

I miss my big coffee pot, Mr. Bean, with his wonderful self-timed ways, so I wake up to the smell of fresh coffee wafting from the kitchen.

Let's just say I woke up five minutes early today just to make sure the coffee situation was taken care of.