My own personal barrista

I've found being a mom is hard work. It takes a lot of time to raise a little person up right. You've gotta instill all the traits and characteristics you value most -- t e a ching good manners, gratitude, compassion, fairness, and loyalty. Some kids know instinctively how to do the right thing, but most do not; they are blank slates and must be taught, just like we were taught once long ago.

However...not all the lear n i n g in our house is so lofty. In addition to molding a compassionate, well-balanced child, I've also nudged him to master more practical, everyday tasks, like laundry and housework. And cooking, which has become a priority since having a child, and realizing cereal is not really dinner food. (Not on a regular basis, anyway.)

And so, I'm teaching Mark to cook.

OK, I'll admit, I'm not much of a chef. I've started off slowly, teaching him the basics. So far, he has mastered the art of opening packages of dried pasta and dumping them into pots of boiling water. He's also pretty good at heating up a tortilla -- though, he prefers doing that in the microwave, much to my dismay.

But I'm most proud of his coffee. That's right, my kid can make a mean cup of joe. I've recently discovered the only thing better than a cup of coffee is a cup of coffee someone else made. I'm proud to say that Mark can add the water, measure out the grounds (more or less), and push the button that turns it all into nectar of the gods.

Yesterday, he even filled my travel mug, then added four heaping tablespoons of sugar, telling me "You'll have sugar in every bite!" (Can I get my coffee black, with a side of cavities, please?)

Mark's only 9, so he can't actually enjoy the fruits of his labor yet (he does sneak little sips). I know you can't live on coffee alone, so I'll have to expand the cooking lessons eventually. But for now, I'm relishing my morning coffee, and the idea that I'm teaching Mark a life skill and possible future job training.

Someday, Starbucks will thank me...