When I was a child, my mother used to make us drink a glass of milk at every meal. At the time, I hated it. Especially at breakfast. (Milk never tastes good to me in the morning, except on cereal.) However, as the years have gone by, I’ve developed a new appreciation for my mom’s persistence. Beyond broken/sprained fingers, the only broken bone in my entire family was an arm. That’s quite an achievement considering I have five siblings, and most of them are rough-and-tumble boys. Not to mention the fact that we all played sports. We also have very healthy teeth with few cavities and no crowns. 

You may argue that these things have nothing to do with the amount of milk we drank as children, but historically people with access to milk and calcium-rich foods in their formative years had better teeth and bones. Just like those who could afford meat and protein grew to be taller and those who ate fruits high in Vitamin C avoided scurvy. I am very grateful to my mother, and feel sorry for all the times I cheated and poured half the glass down the sink when she wasn’t looking. I realize now that she wasn’t trying to torture me, (especially at breakfast), but give me the nutrition I needed. Osteoporosis runs in my family, but my mom has given me a good chance of beating it, and I plan on carrying on the tradition. My children will be milk drinkers, mustaches and all.