There are few tri-word phrases that scare me more than

"Don't kill me…"

And of all the things I worried about as I jumped off the couch to see why he thought I would kill him, I did not for a second I would come face to face with Will holding out a gigundo bag of coffee beans. Apparently there was like a three jillion gallon bag of beans that got divided up between the people at his work and he thought it would be a good idea to come home with a large plastic bag of beans to keep in the freezer.

When I say large? I mean the bag held somewhere around eight pounds of coffee beans. Do you know how much space is required to store eight pounds of coffee beans?

And do you know that we already have four pounds of coffee beans in various storage locations in the kitchen because someone (who is not me) insists that if we find the right flavor of coffee, he'll start drinking it at home and not buying it every morning?  Because? We have coffee in the refrigerator and coffee in the cabinets and do you know what? Will?  Drinks tea.

You know, when I said that if I could find a way to make coffee smelling potpourri I would?  I was not entirely serious.