Daddy. Daddy drinks coffee. Grandpa, too. And uncle Jim. They all like coffee, the black ones with no sugar or cream.

Wanna know what else? They like reading the newspaper! And they're all pretty grouchy because of it. That's why I vowed, to never ever ever ever ever ever ever drink coffee and read newspapers. Because they all turn awesome, funny guys into serious, boring men.

I mean, whose hair won't turn gray and who won't get worry lines if they're always reading about robberies, and murders, and starvation in third world countries while drinking something so bitter every morning?!

I mean, of course you can drink coffee if you want. And I get that whole thing about needing to know about what's happening in the world.

But, what's wrong with a little bit of sugar and cream?

If you have diabetes you can even give tea a go, once and a while. You don't always have to go for black coffee. Geesh. And turning the page to the comics section for a laugh never hurt anyone.

In fact, I think that's exactly what these people need. A nice, fine laugh.

Because, personally, I think that they've lost the ten-year-olds inside of them. And their eyes are draining of color. If they keep drinking bitter coffee and rushing to work without even a smile, they're going to die soon.

All those pills my daddy takes? Those are what will kill him. Taking them is practically an act of suicide. If he really wanted to live longer, he'd laugh a little more.

Or play in the swings.

Or dance in the rain.

Or have nonsensical conversations.

Or read stories.

Or look for the moon in the morning.

Or wish on stars.

Or sing along to songs he doesn't know the lyrics to.

Or think that nothing is impossible.

Or just take time to appreciate the weather.

He has to smile at the little random things that are barely there but actually make up life.

Because sometimes, you have to look for the tiny details, to truly see the beauty in the big things.