Pavlov's Dog Meets Mornin' Grog

Those of you who know me know that I have only one vice. Ok, so there may be more, but the only one I freely admit to is my addiction to coffee. Double-shot, whip-top, light on the foam, heavy on the caffeine. I have one of those fancy dancy high falutin’ pressure-brew espresso machines that I HAD to have since I work at home and there is no coffee house within walking distance. It’s pathetic, I know. Don’t judge me.

So this morning I witnessed yet another case of classical conditioning. You see, I have gotten in the habit of putting a bit of whip cream on top of my morning latte, and perhaps to ease my guilt, I have allowed the kids to share in this indulgence. I usually give them a little dollop of whip cream on their chubby little fingers. So this morning I started steaming the milk, and from the farthest reaches of the house, they came running, hands up, fingers outstretched, mouths open, in search of their whip cream fix. The sound of the steam was all it took. Drool doggies drool.

Not to be left out, my actual dog has been conditioned as well. Calli hears the sound of Dani’s high chair belt being latched and leaves whatever she is doing (eating her own food, playing outside, lounging on one of the many beds she thinks is hers) and rushes to the scene of the crime, where Dani is usually pushing her cheerios over the edge to their unfortunate and untimely death. I’ve learned that Calli will eat anything that falls from the chair, even if it is a barrette. (Although to her credit, she did have the sense to spit out the barrette when she realized it wasn’t candy.)

So the point is, we are all classically conditioned around here. And some of us (the grown up human ones) are also uncontrollably caffeinated. So when you see me salivating at the mere glimpse of a coffee mug, it’ll all start to make sense.

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