Ode to Hot Chocolate

Hail to thee, molten joy!

Dark and seductive or milky sweet

You’re there in need, and never coy.

I breathe you in, your steam and heat,

I love you over any Christmas toy.

***

From: Google Images See what I mean, it's love in a cup!

From: Google Images
See what I mean, it’s love in a cup!

D: Seriously, A?

A: What? I love hot chocolate!

D: . . .

A: I love it so much, I’ve set a challenge for myself on Facebook.

D: Oh, pray tell what productivity this shall engender.

A: Reasons why I get to have hot cocoa for breakfast.

D: Because that is so healthy.

A: It is healthy – you know, because it’s a bean. Therefore . . .

D: Your depravity knows no bounds, does it?

A: Oh, like you didn’t indulge with the Aztecs.

D: I never crossed the sea, A – not until the 21st century and it is often that I second-guess that particular decision.

A: So, you weren’t there when the conquistadors brought it back from the New World?

D: Okay, well – maybe.

A: Right. And you didn’t sample it? Or drink down a whole jug of it and get chocolate all over your face?

D: Who have you been talking too?

A: I can’t tell you that. My informants rely on secrecy, D.

D: . . .

A: Here, D. Have some chocolate. It has tryptophan  in it – it’ll make you feel better.

D: (*grab* mumble grumble mutter slurp . . . sigh).

So, I’ve set myself a challenge: for the next five days, I will have a post on the glories of hot chocolate.

Yes, I do love it that much.

Stop by daily (or follow me on Facebook – yes me, not the D/A Dialogues because there’s nothing on that page that doesn’t end up on my own page. Plus, with Facebook’s new-to-me follow feature, you’re only subjected to that which I mark ‘public.’ Fancy.) to find out more about the season’s best drink, and the crazy reasons I’m more than willing to drink it for breakfast.

Reasons I’m drinking hot chocolate for breakfast:

Monday: It’s Monday. That’s totally allowed as a reason. Plus, I stabbed my hand yesterday while making guacamole. Yep, I’m a menace with sharp objects. (No worries, nothing vital hit. Plus, the boy gets to wash dishes all week!)

The marshmallow in your cup:
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