Coffee gods

Matt makes a giant pot of coffee every morning. He has this fairly ancient coffee machine, which almost never gets washed. The accumulated coffee really adds to the flavor, but sometimes I feel a little embarrassed when outsiders catch a glimpse of it.

Dad and Madonna are in Chicago for a visit, and this morning (after Matt left for work) we decided that we wanted more coffee. Madonna volunteered to make it. I warned her about the state of the coffee machine, and she said that she would try to hold herself back from cleaning it. She was bustling around in the kitchen when she suddenly exclaimed, "Joanna! There's a man in the coffee machine!"

My dad and I raised our eyebrows and looked at each other skeptically, but I went to have a look.  I discovered, to my amazement, that the god of coffee had left a sign in our disgusting, cherished coffee machine. Clearly, he approves of Matt's coffee making methods. I snapped a picture of it and showed it to my dad. "Hmmm," he said. "Jesus."

Here's the picture, with a splash of photoshop: