I've corrupted my mother. Yep, sad story, isn't it? The corruption I'm refering to is the one to mochas. For years she didn't understand why I loved espresso drinks. Now she's always been a huge coffee drinker, but didn't get my passion for espresso. I would turn up my nose at her Folgers so we were at an impasse.
Then it all changed. She had a heart attack and we had her trapped in the hospital. They were bringing her this weak decaf stuff that had been brewed two days ago and warmed up. (I'm kidding but it tasted like it.) My sweet daughter-in-law and I brought her peppermint mochas from Starbucks. At least one a day.
I credit the mochas with still having my mother around. They gave her a new lease on life. Now she's addicted though, poor thing. She sends my dad out every day for one. They may end up in the poor house, but she's got a smile on her face and pink in her cheeks!
But hey, I'm just continuing on the tradition. Kristin got ME hooked on mochas. Denise gave me my first DeBrand mocha truffle years ago. I'm just carrying on the tradition. But you know that's what we do when we love something, no matter if it's truffles, MacBooks, espresso--or Jesus. Who we are and what we love just flows on out. We're not REALLY trying to corrupt anyone. We're sharing things that have made a difference in our lives.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.