Special Drink.

Growing up in the Jones Household was rough*.  We didn't have chips, soda, candy, or treats of any kind.  My mom baked cookies for special occasions and sometimes we got small reward treats for being good... but it was strict. One time I got in BIG trouble for trading my apple juice (100% real juice...) for a Kool-aid squeezit during lunch. I don't know who had the brilliant idea to put my elementary school's cafeteria in the basement and install windows around the ceiling- but it conveniently allowed parents to spy on their children as they traded their food.  Big mistake.

Soda was the big culprit in my house- it was only allowed inside on two holidays: Thanksgiving and New Year's.  We always craved soda as kids- when we visited my grandparents we always busted into my grandpa's stash of Fresca, the delicious grapefruit soda that he soon learned to buy and store in large quantities.  I will always remember my parents' reasoning for why we weren't allowed to drink tons of soda- it wasn't "you'll rot your teeth" or "it's bad for you"- it was "if you drink too much soda you'll pee your bed."

They were right.  They're always right.

This post is not a confession that I peed my bed as a child- because I actually didn't- but I found out this week that I have a low tolerance for soda.  You see, after 21 1/2 years, I have purchased soda for the FIRST time.  Not just a can or a small bottle- two large 2 Liter bottles of Fresca.  Target was having a sale. And I thought to myself, "self. You have been deprived for over 21 years.  You have the right to spend $1.25 on two bottles of soda." So I bought them.  And naturally, I've been having a few glasses of my "special drink" every day.  It's been great- but today I noticed how tired I was, even after sleeping until 10 AM.  I thought about how weird it is that I would be tired- and then realized that I've been tired ever since I bought that stupid soda.  You see, my tiny bladder is not accustomed to large quantities of carbonated liquids- so I've been waking up multiple times each night to make the mad dash to the bathroom.  Unfortunately, I live down the hall and around the corner from my bathroom- and my new apartment is big. And there are not one, not two, but THREE doors between my bed and the toilet (and one of them slides out from inside the wall- trying opening that at 3:30 am when you're in a hurry), along with other potentially hazardous obstacles- including a large clock on the wall and a slippery bathroom rug. So I've been running back and forth between my room and the bathroom at night instead of sleeping.  My parents knew exactly what they were talking about when they kept me from drinking soda.

 I can't believe I have another bottle and a half of that stuff left.  I won't be getting proper sleep for a week.

*My life actually wasn't rough at all. HOWEVER, when I go home to visit my family for holidays and breaks, I can't help but notice all of the treats and snacks that I was never allowed to even think about as a child.  My parents claim that they are for my "growing" brothers.  I guess that's why my 13 year old brother is almost six feet tall.  He's been eating his doritos.