A Fizzy, Caramelly Journey…

Coca Cola. And my story with it.

This story starts even before I was born, and as a matter of fact, it started when my mother was pregnant with me. In her words, ‘normal everyday food’  bored her, and so, in the last month before I was due, she began a new diet, that consisted solely of potato chips, and Coca Cola. She guzzled down around 4 glasses of Coke per day, along with bags of chips and what not. And so, I like to believe that I was born addicted to the drink (not so much to potato chips though)…

When I was 2 years old, my dad took me to a diner. He fed me french fries, and some lettuce, I think. This is all the food that’s in the pictures. As for drinks though, I had half a glass of Coca Cola. Wouldn’t that have been dangerous though, you ask? Was your dad irresponsible or merely careless? The answer is no. My dad was just helpless, and I know this because I saw a home video of me as a 1 year old. I was in the baby stroller, watching an older cousin drink Coke. Immediately I started whining and stretching towards it, until she finally gave me a sip. I swear, this is all true. I’ve had a strange telekinesis with this drink since the wee years of my life.

Not surprisingly,  this addiction did not wear off. I grabbed a glass of Coke on the way home from school, a can when I went out for a walk, and a bottle with dinner. Religiously. It got to the point where I could not eat without a glass of Coke on the table.

Relatives and family told me countless stories about how people had been poisoned from Coke, or become severely obese, or had died, etc etc.  One of my uncles, in a fit of helplessness said “I swear you’re going to weigh 150 kg by the time you’re 18, and you’ll regret it!” And he stomped off. Well, I’m 18, and I’m not 150 kg. I’m a happy healthy 49 kg, not fat and not skinny.

And there it is, My Coca Cola story. It was a love affair that started 18 years ago, and is still going strong today… 🙂