My kids have friends - and their friends have moms.

These moms are in the kitchen first thing in the morning, spreading butter on bread and checking behind ears; these moms are up and dressed before the cock crows.

And then there are my kids - and their mom, who stays up late at night, who works on projects other than housekeeping, who waits for (get ready for this) her coffee in bed every morning.

It's true - shame on me - my kids wake me up in the morning with the java, and they know to make it strong if they want smiles and hugs before they leave for school. They tiptoe into my room and call out a sweet greeting, open the curtains and give me a snuggle. Tell me, would you make your own coffee if you were getting that?

Imagine the blow yesterday when I entered the kitchen to tidy up after the morning rush and stumbled upon this: DECAF. Horrors! And it had been torn open and used - that can only mean one thing.

The deception was too great to bear. I made myself a double ristretto, and then a double espresso just to wash away the memory, throwing back a jamocha for good measure.

From now on, all the decaf will be locked away in a safe place - out of the reach of children. That's a federal warning from the Mother Ship.