The Moment of Change

When people talk to me about their pantry, I generally scoff at their reference.  See, as a kid, my friends favorite room in our house was the pantry because there were always so many options.  As a kid, the refrigerator was in the pantry.  It was green, just like the rest of the paint.  Our pantry is more like a hallway, and a great place to get stuck talking to people.

My memory goes like this.  The house is dark, but outside it’s summer & bright.  Dad is walking by me in the pantry and I turn and say “Can I have a sip?”  Dad says no.  See, as a kid, Dad used to drink Coke.  And he always used to let me have a sip.  I’m pretty sure there was some explanation like “You can’t have this anymore because of your diabetes.”  Remembering this moment still makes me mad.  I find this funny because 1. my father doesn’t drink Coke anymore 2. I don’t actually remember him drinking Coke other than this memory and 3. I cannot stand to drink Coke.  However, this is the only moment in my life that indicates that there was some change in my life after July 4, 1989.