Confession time – I could have titled this post, “My Two-Year-Old Drank Pop” because said three-year-old totally drank pop when she was only two.
And not just once at a birthday party because I was inattentive.
She drinks pop in a horrible, terrible, have-a-small-cup-of-her-own or big-ass-sip-of-mine kinda way.
Because I drink pop. And way too much of it.
I know it’s bad for me, and so very, very bad for her. I have tried again and again to quit. I know if I get it out of my diet, and consequently the house, I can stop caving when she begs for a sip since it literally won’t be available.
Every day I swear I’m going to quit. And by 10am I have the shakes.
You know how I got hooked?
Drinking my dad’s pop when I was a little kid.
The irony of this is not lost on me.