First you have milk, then you can have Coke.

Ah yes friends, truer words were never spoken. I would like to tell you this story. My mother's parents lived in the fine city of Louisville, just far enough south where every kind of soda is "Coke." We would visit Dorothe and J.T. during the summer and holidays of course.

The best type of visit was the solo visit, meaning no parents. Please don't misunderstand, but I don't think I ever felt more grown up then when I was able to go to Dorothe's house on my own. When I think of it, they were really great about it. Sometimes I would make the trip back with Grandma and Grandpa after a visit or Mom and Grandma would meet somewhere in Indiana. How wonderful that Mom wanted me to spend time with Grandma so much that she would make that drive. How wonderful that Grandma wanted me there so much that she would do the same.

The visits were wonderful. Stay up late with Grandma. Drink coffee with Grandma. Get other habits from Grandma. Grandma had soda at her house. Real soda. Not Diet Pepsi, no friend, it was Coke. With anywhere from 2-3 teenaged uncles in the house, there was always Coke.

On one visit, we drank all the Coke that there was... a ton. We kept drinking it and drinking it. At dinner one night (most likely pork chops with mashed potatoes and peas), Grandma asked what we would like to drink. Without even thinking we said "Coke!" Now Dorothe rarely showed anger but when she did, it was time to listen. Her response? "First you have milk, then you can have Coke."