Short Story: The Mullah Nasruddin nearly choked to death on his coffee.

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The Mullah's father-in-law was standing at the garage door, as the Mullah was taking him to the doctors, to checkup on his corns. He was helping to lower the heavy door, holding onto the underside of it, and which the Mullah was also lowering. The car was already outside. The funny thing was, though, that the father-in-law was still standing inside the garage, not outside. The door was coming down, and he would have been left inside. The Mullah had to tell him to come out to the other side. "What was he thinking", the Mullah mused to himself, "Maybe nothing, and maybe that is his problem. He has no uncommon sense, as well as no common sense." After they returned from the Doctor's, the Mullah went to his study to make some notes about the character of the Doctor, as he always did, whenever he met anyone, either new, or continuing in relationships. He would note down little quirks of character, as he liked to study personality, and how it related to spirituality. Anyway, when he came back into the kitchen, thinking that a cup of coffee would be in order now, he found his father-in-law in the kitchen, and obviously, he had had the same thought, as which the Mullah, had just had himself. He had made himself a cup of coffee, and surprise, surprise, he had made one for the Mullah too. "That's your one there," he said, very loudly, as the Mullah came into the kitchen. Abdullah, the father-in-law, was seated at the kitchen table, at the far end of a very large open room, of which, at the other end, was the TV room. The television was on, very, very loud, as the old guy was partially death, (well death, to the Mullah, but of course, I meant deaf here) and he had had to put it on even louder, as he was listening to it now from the far end of the room, a good 100 metres away, in this large room, from the TV end of that room. The TV itself, was easy to see, as it was a very large one indeed. The Mullah did nothing in halves. "Now, why didn't he just take his coffee, and drink it in the lounge chair, next to the TV," the Mullah, thought to himself, but without saying anything to the old man, but thinking, also, "No, that would to logical for him to ever think of." Next, the Mullah had a sip of his coffee. It tasted something horrible. "What sort of coffee, is this?" he stammered, as he nearly gagged on the foul-tasting coffee. "What did you put in it?" To cut a long story short then, the old man had put two teaspoons full of monosodium glutamate, or MSG, into the coffee. He had mistaken it for sugar, it seemed, as they were the same colour, and in similar jars, in the pantry, and right next to each other, on the pantry shelf. He had thought that his own coffee had tasted a bit strange too, but he had just put it down to the cheap brand of coffee bean that the Mullah was buying these days, to try to cut costs, as the old boy, his father-in-law, was drinking 6 cups of coffee a day, made with three heaped teaspoons of coffee powder, in each one, and with three overloaded spoonfuls of sugar included too. Then, he would sprinkle the top with the chocolate topping powder liberally, but the old guy must have really been stressed out after his doctor's appointment, for this time, he had sprinkled both coffee's with cinnamon powder, rather than chocolate powder too. The Mullah just shook his head, and made himself a fresh coffee, and feeling sorry, for his poor old dad-in-law, he made him a fresh new one too. These Mullah-made coffees were a delight for the Mullah to drink, after his tasting a mouthful of the dish-wash tasting like coffee, that his father-in-law had just made for him, before. Photo Credit: The photo used in this article was sourced from the free media site, pixabay.com The Mullah's coffee was a delight to drink, the one that he made for himself, that is! The Mullah enjoyed his second cup of coffee far better than his first!