The New Pepsi Generation...

As I have mentioned before, I do not give my boys Pepsi.

However, I think it's like this: if your parents are smokers, you might get hold of a puff of that awful stuff years before you can legally buy it. The same thing with heavy-drinkin' parents; their kids probably know their liquors at a precicious age. Why should it be any different for the hapless children of depraved Pepsi-abusers?

Ian was actually gloating quite openly about his forays into this taboo earlier today, in the car: "I've tasted it at home on the porch with Daniel, and I'ved tasted it already and Grandma's house with Daniel. I'm sneaking it up."

Doesn't everyone know where they were, and with whom, the first time they smoked a banana peel?

To make matters worse, Ian has adopted a mantra, as it were, to rub in, for me and a boundlessly-horrified Amy, his knowledge of, and enthusiasm for, the forbidden fruit. And random points today, he started chanting, "I want Pepsi! I want Pepsi!"

I don't really react to this kind of cruel provocation, but he followed up his chant with more details this morning:

"I want Pepsi, but Mommy says that instead of saying that, I should yell for you to stop drinking Pepsi, but I don't wnat to do that. I want Pepsi."

We're beyond acceptance; the vice has become virtue, a thing of pride.