I admit it. I’m addicted to coffee. I’ve been drinking it since I was 3 years old, sitting at the kitchen table at my grandmother’s house with my mom, aunts and uncles. Of course, my coffee had milk and sugar in it at the time and, to this day, I still drink it with some kind of creamer (not flavored). They say, whoever they are, that coffee will stunt your growth, but I have been 5 foot 6 inches tall since I was 11 years old, an inch taller than my mom. If it did stunt my growth, how tall would I have been … six foot? I doubt it.
I have one friend who is on a health kick who is trying to convince me that coffee is very very bad for me. Its a chemical I shouldn’t be putting in my body, I’m told. “But what about all the studies that say its actually good for you?,” I reply.
There have been multiple studies over the last few years on how coffee reduces your risk for diabetes, breast cancer and many other illnesses. Of course, this is not a one size fits all cure. But since my blood pressure is good, my annual mammograms are clean, and my blood sugar is right where it should be, I refuse to give up coffee. I can drink it in the evening but it doesn’t keep me awake. I don’t get jittery when I have my usually two very large cups in the morning. And I believe it stresses me out more when I run out of creamer to put in my coffee than the coffee drinking actually may cause me.
So I’m sticking with my cup of java. Whose with me?