Proof that caffiene is a bit too big in my life

My 6 year-old son has obviously been exposed to my love for coffee ('love' can't be the right word... maybe 'desire' or 'need' is better). At Christmas (or is it Hanukkah?) time this past year, I received a new espresso maker ... When we first set this thing up, I made all kinds of "Oooo" and "Ahhh" sounds as the machine ground the beans and pressed a perfect espresso out... the aroma (I never used that word before, I swear) was perfect. So, after a few test cups and lots of kudos for this unnecessary but amazing caffiene-spewing robot, my son says "What's the big deal? You guys are like going crazy - it's just a coffee maker!" and then he starts immitating the "Oooo"s and "Ahhh"s... It was hysterical.

Anyway - the little caffiene-extracting and serving friend (no, not my son, the coffee-maker!) is now a happy part of my life ... but the feeling that it is just too important to me must have stuck pretty well with my son - The other day at breakfast - he had his often-seen wide-eyed "I have a story for you" look and said:
"Daddy! I had the funniest dream last night... The coffee maker broke and, guess what" (he always says "guess what" before the punch line)....
So, of course, I said "What?"...
"You started to cry like a baby!"