All drinking problems have to start somewhere and mine started with Gillian. She always wanted a cup at meals and my parents caved in like the craven individuals that they often are. She looked so cool, relaxed, like she was having a great time. I wanted that. I needed that. I craved that.
So now we are at lunch. I had carrots and a quesadilla, pretty standard fare. What goes good with that lunch? That is right, a cup of the good stuff. My mom had her cup and I really wanted it. I had been seeing G partake at meals and wanted to make that mine. My mom did not want to share, so she poured me my own cup. I was so nervous with this being my first time; I did not know what to do. I was winging this and I know I made some mistakes. I made a huge faux pas by dipping my quesadilla into it. Not half bad actually. It accentuated the cheese really nicely. So I decided to dip my carrot into it. As I got the carrot up to my mouth, I decided I was more interested in "the sauce" than I was in the carrot. I sucked the groovy gravy right off of that carrot and proceeded to dip like it was the Passover of 1999 (I heard there was A LOT of dipping that year). The carrot was not getting enough into my mouth. A choice had to be made. I am not proud of my decision. Please do not lose respect for me. I threw the carrot on the ground, picked up the cup, took a deep breath, and just started to drink. It was leaking out my mouth onto my shirt and smearing all over my face. When done, there was a sizable burp and I wanted more. Since that meal, I scream until my mom brings me the cup of the good stuff. I need help. Please. I am too young to be experiencing addiction like this.
My name is Asher and I am a ranchaholic.
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