We had some friends over for Sunday lunch. Good food (if I do say so myself), good wine and good fellowship.

One precious friend stayed and visited until the evening. As we were putting food away, I offered her a Coke (Not a “soda” or “pop!”). She said water was fine. I asked, “Are you sure?” She had been drinking water all day! She replied that she was fine, water was fine, everything was fine. I protested because I know she likes Coke (Hey, who doesn’t? Down with the Pepsi drinkers!). She insisted that she was fine — as is. I have to admit, I did not believe her. She is so gracious and did not want to trouble me for a thing. So I tested her resolve and told her “I’m gonna have one” (which I did plan to do, but got all caught up in this situation, as you will soon see why). She relented.

I reached in the fridge and grabbed a Coke. She was standing right there, so I handed her the can while I fixed a glass of ice. In this process, I looked and she was drinking right out of the can!!! I cannot stand to drink right from the can . . . anymore (I confess I did it in my youth. But I have recovered. There is hope for you, too, you pitiable can drinkers!). I said, “Don’t you want a glass of ice?” She insisted she didn’t, saying such things as “this if fine,” “I am great,” “I like it this way,” “it doesn’t matter,” etc. Well, I have to admit, I did not believe her AGAIN (I am so B-A-D)! So I had to get her in a corner. I knew she would not lie if I asked the right question. Consequently, I asked her “Which way do you PREFER your Coke: on the rocks or out of the can?”

It really doesn’t matter what our dear friend preferred. What IS important is that she enjoyed her Coke . . . on ice.

I only dress my son in Superman colors . . . unless I am behind on laundry (which, I think, shows that I am not obsessive/compulsive, or for you more concerned readers, I am not insane (this is joy in vanity not insanity!)). If it is any consolation, he looks great in Red and Blue. And he likes to fly (at this time, however, only with assistance of his mother or father). And his name means Hero of God. And we (my cute and wonderful husband and I) intend to instill in him a love for truth, wisdom, justice and mercy.

There. That substantiates my actions.

I also buy sippy cups in Red and Blue. But, if you have a young child, you understand that a sippy cup is basically an accessory anyway!

In any event, my “True Confessions” (say that in a whisper, it sounds more exciting) must come to an end as my little Kal-El needs tending to!