I’m drinking a hot cocoa for the first time in years. It tastes like my childhood! Seriously, it does.
So I’mma tell y’all about one of my favorite childhood memories. Now fair warning, I have no idea why it’s one of my favorites nor do I know why I remember it so vividly.
Here we go….
One cold, early morning when I was roughly around six, seven, maybe eight years old, my Mom made my dad a cup of steaming hot coffee and asked me to take it outside to him.
I remember it was pretty outside. The frost on the ground was beginning to thaw, but it still had that white, crystalline look to it. It was cold outside. I was bundled in a jacket. It was a thick one. Not a flimsy, it’s a little cool out, but a true, keep-a-kid warm kind of jacket. The sun was bright, the sky was blue and clear. I could hear birds.
I started across the front yard, carefully holding the cup of coffee, and thought, this coffee smells good. Now, I don’t know how much I knew about coffee before that, or how much attention I’d paid to the smell, but I took notice that morning.
Once I was about halfway across the yard I ever so conspicuously stuck a finger in the cup and then, after pulling it back out, popped it into my mouth to taste the coffee.
I didn’t like the taste and decided then that coffee was just one of those things that smelled good, but tasted awful. Ya know, like gasoline! 😂 (I’ve never tasted gas, but I’m sure it would taste awful!)
Anyway, I took the cup to my dad then went back inside. I have no idea why I remember that so well, other than maybe, even in my little person brain, I knew my dad would have been like, you did whaaat to my coffee?! (Not in a mean way. I have a really great, loving dad. Just in a regular parent, my kid just ruined my coffee kind of way. 😂)
And for some reason, that’s one of my favorite memories. I have no idea why. Still to this day though, I love the smell of coffee but hate the way it tastes. Hence, the cocoa. That I can do.
Isn’t it amazing what something as simple as a cup of cocoa can bring to mind? A distant memory about a cup of coffee on a cold, winter morning, a vivid recounting of that very tale.
Also… To my Dad, if you’re reading this… Sorry?… 😂😉