I remember in school everyone worked on deciding what to give up for Lent this year. It was usually chocolate. Some would joke about giving up smoking (we were too little to smoke). It became a ritual every year, puzzling what to give up. It was usually chocolate.
One year I gave up coffee. That was a disaster. I’ll never put a cup of chicory to my lips again. At the time, it became obvious that I was dependent on caffeine; I have since nurtured that into becoming a coffee snob, savouring each sip of the grape soda, citrus and caramel notes in my selected brew of the week.
My mother-in-law was an expert on Lent. Every year she would give up butter, and then splurge on butter every Sunday. I didn’t know there was no Lent on Sundays. I counted the 40 days, and if you did count in the Sundays, you end up short on Palm Sunday. She was right!