To my beloved cup of joe,
'Tis true my love for you was not born at first taste, rather it has grown with the years. I was naive and young and lacked depth of mind to partake in your aromatic goodness. Now that my love for you has matured, I am able to see the errors of my ways; the coffee lover has emerged from my old self.
You have warmed my soul on a frigid day and given me energy when I have been sluggish. You have awakened understanding in a way that therapy and medication could not- I now have total awareness of why my mother was such a raving lunatic until she had that first cup of morning wonderfulness.
Thank you for keeping me sane, giving me the pep I need to clean the house, pay the bills, blog about foolishness and to play with my children on days where it seems the couch has been coated in super glue and I have become its captive. To you, I am grateful. And so are my children.
The end.
2 comments:
I actually started setting my coffee maker the night before so my morning wonderfullness is waiting for me when I come down the stairs!!
Amen. I second that.
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