Impossible!

"Impossible!" The declaration of ultimate frustration came as a loud shock to my un-caffeinated ears. Not wanting the source of the auditory pain to detour me from my mission to embrace the coffee pot, I answered with a "What?!" "Impossible!!", came the reply now clearly coming from the kitchen table, and definitley coming from someone not comprehending the enormity of my coffee-less existence. "What's impossible?!", I now shouted, trying to fight verbal fire with verbal fire. "This puzzle, it's impossible!" As I fumbled for the blue packets the fog slowly started to life and I realized that the mysterious voice of futility was my eleven year old son Michael. But he would have to wait. I, after all, was on a mission. (to be continued..............)