Well, I suppose the way my mother made them they were more like mochas. She always put extra sugar and chocolate syrup in for us little kids.
I would feel so grown up on Sunday mornings as I sipped my espresso beverage from my tiny mug that matched my Mother’s tea set.
I learned to count to twenty those Sunday mornings while one of my parents ground the coffee beans for the cappuccinos.
It was as much a part of our routine as church services.
Though admittedly a tastier one.
Now that I’m old enough to make my own, I always get a warm feeling inside recalling how this love bordering on an unhealthy addiction started.
I can’t wait to have my own kids so that I can continue this ritual of the Cappuccino with them.
Including the tiny mugs.
What childhood memories have come to define your life, and how you will or do raise your kids?