I haven’t always been a coffee drinker. As a child, I stole a taste from a grown-up’s cup. Bleah! I vowed I would never, ever, consume such bitter stuff.
At age 13, though, I grew desperate. Every morning when I awakened, my stork-like legs had grown another inch. My feet had grown two.
Common wisdom declared that coffee stunted a person’s growth. Okay, I would choke it down.
Mom left numerous cups of cooled coffee — with five children, she didn’t finish one for 20 years — around the house. I sampled the cups, then held my nose and drained them.
Sure enough, I stopped growing at five feet, nine inches.
During midlife, I swallowed the idea that drinking coffee also would shrink my waistline. Like Mom, I chugged a couple of pots a day (one decaffeinated). The intake didn’t diminish my waistline a single inch. Maybe if I give up decaf, too?
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: If a coffee addict, when and why did you begin your habit?