I Love Coffee, Though It’s Not My Fault

I love coffee, though it’s not my fault. It’s my parents’ fault.

When I was very young, probably 7 or 8 years old, I would sit at the table with my mom and dad as they drank coffee. My parents allowed me a cup of coffee so I could dunk cookies along with them. I didn’t drink the coffee, but I enjoyed the soggy, coffee-flavored cookies. Eventually I began drinking the coffee when I realized cookie pieces were hiding in the bottom of those brown, green and gold glazed mugs of the 70’s.

So you see, it’s not my fault I love coffee; I was bonding with my parents.

I love coffee from coffee shops, though it’s not my fault. It’s my previous home-school group’s fault.

I had no desire to visit a coffee shop. I enjoyed my home-brewed coffee with cream. No sugar. But years ago I belonged to a home-school group in Indiana. They held meetings at a local coffee shop. I had no idea what to order; I had never met a latte or cappuccino in my life. I had never tasted sweet coffee and the selections sounded like desserts. I shared my confusion with the barista and He assured me if I tasted the rich, sweet drink I would be forever changed. He was right. I’ve never forgotten that turtle-flavored latte and have gone on to enjoy more lattes than I can count.

So you see, it’s not my fault I love coffee from coffee shops; attending the home-school meetings was important.

I love coffee from Starbucks; though it’s not my fault. It’s the ladies Bible study group’s fault.

I had never been to a Starbucks until we moved to Texas. Here we have one at nearly every intersection. My first visit to Starbucks was to attend a ladies Bible study. We were new to Texas and I was looking for ways to meet people. I needed more than my regular chats with the checkout ladies at Wal-Mart. I always felt energized by the Bible study and prayer, mixed with sugar and caffeine.

So you see, it’s not my fault I love coffee from Starbucks; I was joining the ladies for spiritual enrichment.

I love coffee at home the best; though it’s not my fault. It’s my children’s fault.

My children bought me a coffee mill to grind my coffee beans each day. There is nothing better than freshly ground coffee in my own kitchen.

So you see, it’s not my fault I love coffee at home the best; it’s polite to use the gift my children gave me.

Can I help it if I am so easily influenced by others and so thoughtful of their feelings? Sometimes I just have to put others first.