It’s important to have a good coffee cup. My husband, Peter, makes the coffee, and has since we were married. We will be celebrating nine years of marriage this spring, so you might not be surprised to hear that I no longer remember how to make coffee. This is called “learned helplessness” in psychology circles, and is certainly true in my case. Peter makes the coffee, and I drink it. This seems to me like a fair division of labor. And having the proper cup is essential. I am reminded of this every time I return to Mexico, because I do not pack a coffee cup. Our little furnished apartment has a perfectly fine selection of matching white ceramic coffee cups sitting on the shelf. But none of these cups is my cup. And so, usually on the first day, I will head out to the market where handcrafted items are sold in search of a perfect cup. Walking through the market, it is surprising how relatively few coffee cups I see. I suppose most people do not have a cup sitting beside them all day, or at least for the first six hours of every day. I don’t think this is nearly as common in Mexico as it is in the U.S. But still, there are a lot of nice cups and, eventually, I find my new cup. “What do you think?” I ask Peter when I triumphantly return with my new perfect cup. “Isn’t that the same cup you had before?” he asks.