She’s like a cold coffee…

Iced coffee. It’s not hard. When I was growing up, there was always a jar of it in the fridge, the remains of the morning’s pot. Probably that doesn’t go down too well with the cold-brew crowd, but it worked for my Mom. 
I’m not so good at planning ahead, however. Too much like hard work. But — simples! Turn on the blessed Nespresso, pour over ice and

… Bob is your proverbial uncle. I add a little milk. But you don’t have too.