Too funny, Keesha.
When I was probably 7 or so dad used to take me with him when he went hunting on an Amish farm. The farmers loved him as he always shared the bounty with them. They would take me into their farm kitchen, sit me down at the oilcloth covered table and stick a big thick mug of half filled black coffee in front of me. Remember I could barely see over the top of the mug and was fascinated to watch the lady pour thick, rich cream on top of the coffee and spoon teaspoon after teaspoon after teaspoon of pure maple sugar on top of it. Yum!
Now I drink it black, though...lol.