It was one of those lazy mornings in Folsom with my kids, Gauri and Matthew. The coffee machine at home had gone on strike, so I asked Gauri to walk me to the nearby Starbucks.

She raised an eyebrow: “Mom, seriously?”

I lowered my voice like I was confessing a crime: “Beta, I can’t face this place alone. Last time I ordered here, I froze. First came the size drama—Tall, Grande, Venti. Why is Tall the smallest? Then the barista started firing options faster than an auctioneer, and I ended up with a drink so frothy I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to sip it… or wash my hair with it.”

Gauri burst out laughing, but I wasn’t joking. “You’re my only hope. Please get me one strong cappuccino, no sugar. Translate it into Starbucks-ese and save it in my phone—so next time I can order without looking like I’m competing in a spelling bee.”

She sighed the ultimate Gen Z sigh, rolled her eyes, and muttered: “Fineee.”
I hugged her like she’d just pulled me out of quicksand.

Because let’s be honest—Starbucks isn’t coffee. It’s a viva exam.

Barista: “Would you like a skinny oat milk caramel macchiato with half pump vanilla and extra foam?”
Me: (dumbstruck look, inner monologue screaming) “Bas ek doodh waali strong coffee, beta… bas utna hi chahiye.”

Meanwhile, the Gen Z kid behind me has already ordered their triple-shot, pumpkin-spiced, oat-milk, life-purpose latte in flawless accent.
And I’m still standing there wondering—
Wasn’t coffee supposed to be just… coffee?

Moral: We Gen X don’t order coffee at Starbucks. We survive it—with a little help from our kids. 😅

⸻Suvi’s Scribbles