Vice

On the way to the doctor’s office with my sister earlier this week, we stopped at Starbucks for Frappucinos (don’t worry, hers was decaffeinated, or so they assured us) (not that I’d really worry about a little bit of caffeine) (when I was pregnant, you could pry the iced tea out of my cold, dead hands is what I’m saying). It’s a thing we do. Back in the day (when I was in college or just out and she was in high school), we’d spend Saturday mornings at Half Price Books and come home by way of La Madeleine’s pastry case and our beloved Starbucks. You can see why we’re both devotees of Jillian Michaels and Leslie Sansone today.

Anyway, we both have the love of the ‘Bucks. Those lovely frozen almost-milkshakes-but-not-quite caffeine bombs of bliss. I don’t go very often these days (see aforementioned frugality and love of free things), but when I do, it is pure delight. This time, my lovely sister had a gift card from her students which she kindly shared with me (thanks again, Sis). Yummy mocha heaven. As I took a moment to enjoy that first taste, I saw Sammy already eyeing me. If you have food or drink, that’s the food or drink he wants. So I knew before he moved, a Sip would be requested. A Sip is any beverage in an adult hand, preferably of carbonated variety, but this would do in a pinch.

So I handed him the cup and he took a nice, long drag before reluctantly handing it back to me. We made our way to the doctor’s office and settled into the waiting room. That’s when he asked for another Sip. I think I was about 2/3s through with my drink, so I generously allowed another nip.

And then it was gone.

I think he tried to invert the cup, he was sucking on the straw so hard. It was like watching Sabrina with her bottle (seriously, the lung power on these kids).

So apparently I have a caffeine addict on my hands. God help me if he discovers Red Bull.