Joey and I have amassed a collection of coffee mugs that tell a little story of our lives. It wasn’t an intentional collection, but every time he leaves for a tour he comes back with a little something from whatever fabulous country or city he has visited, and the souvenirs that see the most use are always the mugs. I have a few special ones in the collection too and I was noticing the other day how we tend to pick out certain mugs for each other, and that there may be little unspoken messages behind our selections.
When I’m pouring the coffee I always think something along the lines of “oh he gets the Union Jack cause he’s going to London soon and I’ll take the knitting one because I plan to do tons of knitting today” or “I feel like tea and I’m going to drink it out of my London tea cup and since that one is little, Joey gets the little one from Sweden. He loves Sweden.”
When he pours the coffee, he tends to make mine in the Love Is All You Knit mug and his in either the Amsterdam mug or maybe the Don’t Mess With Texas. Sometimes he’ll bring me coffee in the little mug from Holland with the Dutch girl and boy leaning in for a kiss. And when he is on tour, I tend to drink from a mug that is geographically close to wherever he is traveling. Yes, there has been an “oh he’s in Spain, so I’m drinking from Barcelona today,” and I’ve even drank from his J- initial cup to feel extra close while he was away.
Our subconscious mug-selection habits may be a little silly, but one thing is for sure: our cups are always filled with love.