Caffeine is good

Sam knows his mom and dad like coffee.  He knows when we turn on the Keurig Coffeemaker and steam comes out, to say "ot" (translation:hot).  He knows that our mugs are not to touch.  He likes to pull the green straw out of my iced coffee to suck on and play with.  Some of Sam's first trips out of the house when he was an infant were to the local coffee shop and Starbucks.  They are both within walking distance and the spring he was born was beautiful and having a purpose to our strolls was nice.
Now that Sam is mobile, while I get dinner prepared, he is typically digging through the drawers and cabinets that are not baby-proofed.  Usually this involves a great deal of clattering and tossing of unbreakable kitchenware and baby supplies with me alternately following behind him putting things back & cooking.  Lately he has been pulling open the drawer containing the little Keurig pods, which are about three inches high, cylindrical plastic with sturdy pull-back, foil lids.  They are a nice, quiet alternative to the crashing aluminum bakeware, they can roll, and when he is especially focused, he can stack a few.  However, I should know by now that quiet is not always good.
Last night when I glanced down, he grinned back up at me with a grimy mouth and a Keurig pod in one hand.  He had managed to puncture the soft top and dig into the coffee grounds.  The grounds were apparently a new tasty snack because as I watched his pudgy fingers dug in for more and went straight to his mouth.  I held out my hand for the pod and he willing passed it over, then head-dove into my legs, rubbing coffee into my khaki work pants.  (After snapping a photo & probably encouraging the activity) I wiped his face and got back to cooking, thinking that it was a fluke that he had managed to open the pod .  I kept my eye on him and quickly came to the conclusion, this was not a fluke.  Sam had secured another pod in his little fist and gnawed on the top with his two teeth.  Once he had managed to break the surface he poked his index finger into the opening, widened it, and dug in.  This time he did not hand over the pod willingly, or happily.  By the time I had retrieved the washcloth for his face, he was licking his lips and sucking his fingers, savoring the bitter grinds.  Time to childproof another drawer and watch for when he makes a connection between the pods, machine, and end product of coffee.
Needless to say, Sam was not ready for bed for a long time.