Sunday, January 27, 2013

Table Talk

We have the most intense, world-problem-solving discussions around our dinner table sometimes. I’m certain you would love to be a fly on the wall.

Especially tonight.

Tonight’s ground-breaking discussion: Coke vs. Pepsi.

Sure, it’s been batted around in the past but possibly not on the same level it was in our house tonight. By the PBA specifically.

Without hesitation, Mr. Always Random and I are in the Coca-Cola camp. His dad worked for Coke for over 30 years; if you pricked my husband’s finger, I am not 100% certain that blood would come out. I suspect it might be Coca-Cola.

However, being as I am a frugal lass, I sometimes purchase non-Coke soda. Mostly if it is on sale and I have a coupon. Now, it’s not that we have soda in the house all that often. I have all but given it up, and the PBA know that it’s a red letter day, to be sure, if I let them have it.

That being said, I don’t know what was recently being celebrated in our household, but a 2-liter of Pepsi (yes, I said that sometimes the competitor product makes its way into the house) was open and going flat in our fridge.

We were having pizza (yes, I went all out on dinner tonight…don’t judge…I did, at least, get it from Papa Murphy’s so I had to put in some effort and bake it), and who doesn’t love some soda with their pizza? Well, actually I might prefer a bit of a malted beverage beer but I digress.

My 11yo asked for soda. Much to his dismay, the Pepsi was all we had on hand. And to be honest, even if a non-Pepsi product was skulking about in the pantry, unopened, I wasn’t going to let him open it until the Pepsi going flat in the fridge was consumed.

Yeah, I’m that kind of mom. Mean.

So…I told him he could have ONE glass of it (see, I told you that I was mean), and I instructed him to ask his brother if he would like one as well.

The 9yo declined.

At the table a few minutes later, this conversation began:

9yo: I can’t believe you’re drinking that.

11yo: What? I like it. Well, kind of. It’s ok. (I’m certain he’s going to be an attorney…so steadfast in his case.)

9yo: It tastes like crap.

11yo: It’s not that bad.

9yo: No, it tastes like crap. Actually, it tastes WORSE than crap.

(Side note: You have got to believe me when I assure you that we’re working on this “favorite” word in his vocabulary…sounds more-than-crass coming out of a 9yo’s mouth.)

Silence around the table as we’re all contemplating what he’s just said. We all come to the same conclusion simultaneously, but he is just a hair faster than the rest of us on verbalizing his thoughts.

9yo: Not that I’ve actually TASTED crap…but I can imagine what it tastes like, based on how it smells.

And this, my friends, is how the PBA’s school work in Anatomy comes into context. 

I'm such a proud mama.

1 comment:

  1. I knew that was coming! :)
    Your pizza story reminded me of my friend whose husband once complained about her lack of cooking. Her response: "The oven doesn't turn itself on!"