I like bananas. I like them better smathered in peanut butter. (Chunky, obvs.)
This morning I was about to enjoy said items, when I remembered that my doctor (who looks and acts EXACTLY like this, bee tee dubs) told me I needed more calcium. I used to drink milk by the big, tall glassful when I was growing up (my grandfather was a dairy farmer, after all, and cows and I have a long and complicated history), but lately it’s been a whole lot more booze, and less sweet Holstein nectar. (And by lately, of course, I mean the last eight years.)
“Aha!” I thought to myself. “There are few things in this world better complimented by milk than peanut butter!” Oreos are a worthy contender, of course, as are their slightly messier cousin, the chocolate chip cookie. Pastry for breakfast seemed a bit much… but fruit, peanut butter and a cold glass of milk? Sign me up.
Patting myself on the back for my ingenuity (satisfied craving AND a healthy dose of calcium? SMARTEST WOMAN ALIVE) I trotted to my little Korean deli place across the street (you know, the breakfast/lunch bar types they have on every corner) and scoured their drink items for milk. After wrestling with my inner child who tried to convince me that really, chocolate milk is the same thing, it just tastes better! It’s even low-fat, it’s good for you!!!, I opted for the lone, sad little carton of skim milk, shoved behind all the chocolatey goodness.
Probably should have been my first clue.
Judgment clouded by thoughts of moral and health superiority, I pranced back across the street (what? I’m wearing zebra flats today. They demand to be pranced in) and upstairs to my desk, where I readied my mouth for the explosion of flavors. (Sorry, can’t help it: That’s what she said.) I took a delicious, peanuty-goodness-enriched bite of banana, used my amazing one-handed reflexes to open the wee 5th-grade-cafeteria carton of milk, and enthusiastically took a large, satisfying swig. I swallowed.
The smell hit me before the taste did.
How do you describe spoiled milk? The word Yellow comes to mind, as does Curdled, Goat Urine, and OMGMyStomachIsChurningAndI’mGoingToDie. With a side of, IReallyHopeIDon’tVomOnMyComputer.
Ah, gluttony… you sadistic whore.
Methinks this afternoon warrants a CVS run to stock up on pink stuff, and calcium vitamins. Because frankly? I’m not sure Milk and I are going to be able to work through this and still be friends. And it’s totally NOT ME, it’s YOU.
Moral of the story?
When your inner child says CHOCOLATE!!! ?
You listen.
(Video Warning: Just kidding. It’s a freaking puppet. Handle it.)
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{ 14 comments }
I worked a job with crazy hours right out of college. Being a raging insomniac as well, I was sleeping about 4 hours a night. FOR WEEKS ON END.
Now, I am a huge slob. A huge slob who was drinking about 5 coffees a day. I would always start the day with a latte (ya know, for the calcium, because clearly I was super duper concerned about my health when I was only sleeping 4 hrs a night) and then move to drip.
I generally had about 4 empty latte cups on my desk at any given time. One morning, I grabbed the wrong one. It was a Monday. At minimum, I drank a huge swig of milk that had been sitting out for 3 days.
I threw my cups away after that.
yikes, I can’t drink plain milk unless its flavored someway – the taste makes me icky.
Hope ya don’t get sick.
Has anything arrived in the mail yet for you?
Weird. I just started drinking milk again the other day. I was told something in it makes you sleepy, so I’m hoping it will cure my sleeping problems. You know, opposed to making me vomit. Vom in the bed is the worst.
I love a cold glass of milk. In fact I had a tall one with lunch today. Also PB and milk sound delicious to me right now. Mmmmm how can i still be hungry?
Lem: Old AND spoiled- you win. Royally vomitous.
Zip: We’re still waiting to get our mail key from our new LL! I’m sure it’s in there…
Marissa: They say warm milk helps you sleep, which I always thought sounded kind of gross anyway. A bottle of wine seems to work for me just fine. Wait what?
J: I swear I could eat an hour after a 7-course Italian dinner. Besides, you are twee. It’s allowed.
Two words: White Russian. They are the only thing saving me from osteoporosis.
One time, at Marine Corps camp, I became confused and lost track of my can of beer while partying with some friends in Palm Springs. So, I grabbed the one closest to me…
I’m still trying to figure out how my buddy was able to use that can I grabbed as a spit cup and never get any on the rim.
Ummmmmmm. Warm. Tobacco. Spit.
Delish.
AMERICA!! FUCK YEAH!!
I never drink milk. It grosses me out. So the thought of diving into a big swig of sour milk? I just did a little ickyickyicky dance in my chair.
Frecks: A perfect reconciliation, if my stomach didn’t heave at very thought of dairy right now. (Except you, cheese. I will always love you.)
Foggy: That is so much worse. I am also totally impressed by your comrade’s mad tobacco aiming skills. Honestly, you can’t even really be mad- that’s impressive.
66: That’s how we roll.
Lisa: I’ll see your ickydance and raise you a holding-nose-face-turning-green.
What do Korean’s know about milk anyway?
Feel free to check the expiration date next time. It’s usually printed on the carton, somewhere near the top, for ease of use.
What’s done is done though. Just remember to thoroughly clean that rotten milk out of your face before you come over for dinner tomorrow.
kthxbai
Zach: Expiration dates are for pussies.
And you KNOW I will be sporting a milk mustache tomorrow, just for you.
i agree, peanut butter goes with anything. as does chocolate.
That reminds me. I totally need to clean out my fridge. D’oh.
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