I didn't even ask if there would be coffee in the cupboard.
It's my parent's cabin. Of course there will be coffee in the cupboard. There was, and I drink it now. Just as I breathe in the constant breath God gives me daily, I drink my parent's constant coffee, and I am cared-for.
Of course a hotel would have also provided coffee for me, but I wouldn't get to drink that coffee out of my dad's chipped mug that says "I'd rather be golfing." The wonderful hot shower wouldn't have been that same shower I used when I was fourteen, the shower that brings memories of soggy swimsuits, and washing away beach sand and a little wet sister pleading "Don't use all the hot water!"
I inhale the trees, the crisp cool chirping air, and the sweet memories.
It is good to be a kid.
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