When I think of my dad, I think of one thing: Diet Coke. That dark, bitter liquid has had a place in my dad's hand for almost as long as I can remember (6th grade?). His morning didn't end until he got to 7eleven and bought his old fashioned donut and 20 oz. D.C. He has had no support for his addiction from his family. None whatsoever. Come on, he's killing brain cells!
Now, Almost nine years after the beginning of the mockery, I have to say that I have grown accustom to my own bottle of Diet Coke. I haven't gotten as bad as having to have a daily fix...or 5, however, I do enjoy a Diet Coke a couple times a week.Is there hope for me? Yes. There's hope for all Coke addicts. The first step of getting over the habit, is wanting to. And I don't think I want to.
So, Dad, it's taken some time, but I've come over to your side. You're right, the grass is greener.