For the Love of Coffee


It was Christmas morning after a long Christmas Eve.  I was about nine but I always thought I was an adult and I always acted more self-important than I actually was.  After all, I am the oldest grandchild on that side of the family.  As I sat at my grandma's kitchen table with my great-grandma sitting next to me I got up the courage to reach over and take that mug.

This was it.  This was the moment I proved my adulthood.  I made the journey and was ready for my task.

As I felt the warm heat from the dark liquid my heart began to race.

If I had only known that my life would be forever changed.

This one addiction would drive me to spend hundreds if not thousands of dollars.

I would drive all the way across town for one smooth drop of that dark, chocolate liquid.

So here, on Christmas morning, I began up the road of addiction, one that I still haven't quite gotten under control.

Coffee--the bane of my existence.  If only you were so good.


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