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.