I'm in Love

It is time that I tell the world about my love affair. I've been in love, and the truth is that it all began when I was but a wee child. I admit that a few posts ago I said that my husband is the love of my life, but this pre-dates my chance encounter with him. (it wasn't like that, but doesn't that sound romantic?)

Yes, coffee is my true love, and it is time that I confess. Now, I am not one of those Starmoolah addicts that pays more than the national debt per year to feed my addiction. In fact, I am totally intimidated by those places. I don't know the lingo required to make a correct order and usually end up with some ice-cold, gazillion calorie, frothy thing with whipped cream and chocolate sauce on top when all I want is a cup 'o joe. Really, if I wanted an ice cream sundae, I'd go to that store...

I have managed to break up once or twice over my lifetime. I was totally smitten in high school (aren't we all?). I had a rendezvous every lunch period, although I had to sneak around because it was forbidden for the students. The teachers could have their fill in public! Then in college, I managed to let go for a few years (the void was certainly filled with various types of other drinks). My affair re-emerged when I took a job where they brewed a vat of the black gold every morning in the hall just outside of my office. The mere scent of my love, brought back a flood of happy memories and I was overcome yet again. We did manage to part ways during my pregnancies, but who can really carry on like that when your belly betrays you by announcing your sexual prowess in your "committed" relationship?

But I am back to enjoying my true love in bed every morning first thing. I even sometimes make it last until I am through reading the morning paper (including the crossword puzzle, impressive I know!). I can trace the roots of my life long romance to my youth, as I said. When I was a small fry, I used to enjoy spending the night at my grandparents' apartment. There was where my dark secret got its roots. At bedtime, my grandmother would unfold the sleeper sofa and tell me good night. After she went to bed, my grandfather would sneak in and bring me a bedtime treat. It would be ice cream...coffee ice cream. I mean, what better thing to give a kid at bedtime than a bowl full of sugar and caffeine? If they had made red bull then, I could have used that to wash it down! So, after a night of the jitters and no sleep, I would look sad at breakfast...poor baby. They had coffee, so I would ask for coffee in my milk (tasted like the ice cream!). Why would my grandmother, who knew nothing of my bedtime treat, refuse such an innocent request? And there began the vicious cycle...

Actually coffee is a cyclical event - kind of like the water cycle that they teach our kids in school. You make it with water, and then after drinking, you must go make water. As my daughter's doctor says, we don't consume coffee, we only borrow it...So, now I feel better that I have bared my soul, but will feel even better after I go return the coffee that I drank while typing this!