According to the barrista at my Starbucks, I’m an awesome wife.  No, I’m not putting out for lattes like I once threatened to do and I’m certainly not ironing clothes for the lady who swipes my card –or even my husband for that matter.   I simply showed up at 7:45 AM to buy my husband his coffee on Father’s Day.  The staff at my Starbucks were taking bets on how many of their regular customer’s wives would show up for a Father’s Day coffee run.  The results: 2.  Yep, 2 wives, myself included.  They cheered when I entered, “Jenny, I knew I could count on you,” the manager said.  I thought I’d won a prize, maybe a frappe “my way?”  It seems I deserved one;  when I walked in to get my coffee the next morning they were still talking about it.  They were talking about how shocked they were that on Mother’s Day they saw all the dads with the kids, letting moms sleep in and on Father’s Day the husbands still got the coffee.  I guess the men are the “weekend coffee getters” in our society.  Sure, they used to be hunters and gatherers, protectors, and providers, but now apparently getting coffee is as manly a task as we can bestow on our husbands. Continue reading →