in the morning (and anytime if I am honest) unbridles that childlike wonder in me. The irony that children aren’t allowed to drink coffee never bothers me much. Why? When I was 4 years old, I snuck a tiny sip of my dad’s coffee when he left it, rather precariously, on the armchair of the couch.
As an incredibly boisterous child, you can imagine my parents never would have let this happen if they knew about. I kept that secret little rebellious taste of coffee for years until I was 12. At this age, I insisted on having coffee. I was stubborn as a mule and energetic as a young pony, so my poor parents had no choice. They had to yield or I would have found my own way in rebellion.
So, here we are, over a decade later, and I still feel childlike wonder and rebellion whenever I take a sip. What will the magic little elixir help me create today?