When recent conversation with a friend about 'milk drinking' came up, there was a sudden smile that crept on my face. And suddenly I was taken back to the milk-drinking days!
You see, I've hated milk all my life, atleast of whatever I've lived/remember.
Somehow, milk never brought any joy to my and D's face. Never. We were forced to drink it. And D like the good kid, always did. I'd make a face, try and escape it, make faces like I'm going to vomit, I'm choking, like the milk was bad. It never worked. M knew me really well.
There was this one time, when I distinctly remember grinning ear to ear one morning before heading to school, crossing M and announcing that I'd finished the milk. I'm sure M was trying to figure out what was really the matter. My face would never light up when I drank milk. Or even otherwise (I was/am a super sulky kid) The next morning, I tiptoed towards the kitchen with that milk cup and ....... caught me pouring milk down the kitchen drain!! Oh! The look on my face is probably etched in M's memory! What followed was a moral lecture and that did work, I never wasted milk, or food for that matter.
We were clever though, I mean, if we couldn't throw it, ofcourse we could leave it behind on the breakfast table stating the fact that we were getting late and the school bus would leave us and we'll have to ask M to drop us.... D and I did it once (teamwork fist bump), M figured that this was a trick.
So one day, when we tried it and ran to catch the bus, M put her game face on and made the bhaiya stop the bus, as it was leaving the colony premises, present it to us on the tray, and had us drink the milk, while all the other children cheered for us. Needless to say, M was the hero and this was a story that went down in family history. Guests till date are entertained with this story. But ofcourse, we ensured that we left home drinking milk after that eventful (and embarrassing) day.
The day I finished my last of school, the one when you give the last exam, scream out loud that school was over and you'd grown up, was the day I drank my last cup/glass of milk. I mean, I was almost- in college, and milk, was for kids anyway. Pretty sure that I'll never forget that day. Ofcourse I do drink milk now in the odd forms of milkshakes, with cornflakes and as a remedy to a sore throat, but that association of milk has gone. Now we're mature milk drinkers.
Or so I tell myself that. Uggh milk!
Note: Just yesterday, I decided to start drinking milk on a regular basis (as an adult), so as to not look at future weak bones. I bought myself an exclusive milk only cup...lets see when that comes of use :)
You see, I've hated milk all my life, atleast of whatever I've lived/remember.
Somehow, milk never brought any joy to my and D's face. Never. We were forced to drink it. And D like the good kid, always did. I'd make a face, try and escape it, make faces like I'm going to vomit, I'm choking, like the milk was bad. It never worked. M knew me really well.
There was this one time, when I distinctly remember grinning ear to ear one morning before heading to school, crossing M and announcing that I'd finished the milk. I'm sure M was trying to figure out what was really the matter. My face would never light up when I drank milk. Or even otherwise (I was/am a super sulky kid) The next morning, I tiptoed towards the kitchen with that milk cup and ....... caught me pouring milk down the kitchen drain!! Oh! The look on my face is probably etched in M's memory! What followed was a moral lecture and that did work, I never wasted milk, or food for that matter.
We were clever though, I mean, if we couldn't throw it, ofcourse we could leave it behind on the breakfast table stating the fact that we were getting late and the school bus would leave us and we'll have to ask M to drop us.... D and I did it once (teamwork fist bump), M figured that this was a trick.
So one day, when we tried it and ran to catch the bus, M put her game face on and made the bhaiya stop the bus, as it was leaving the colony premises, present it to us on the tray, and had us drink the milk, while all the other children cheered for us. Needless to say, M was the hero and this was a story that went down in family history. Guests till date are entertained with this story. But ofcourse, we ensured that we left home drinking milk after that eventful (and embarrassing) day.
The day I finished my last of school, the one when you give the last exam, scream out loud that school was over and you'd grown up, was the day I drank my last cup/glass of milk. I mean, I was almost- in college, and milk, was for kids anyway. Pretty sure that I'll never forget that day. Ofcourse I do drink milk now in the odd forms of milkshakes, with cornflakes and as a remedy to a sore throat, but that association of milk has gone. Now we're mature milk drinkers.
Or so I tell myself that. Uggh milk!
Note: Just yesterday, I decided to start drinking milk on a regular basis (as an adult), so as to not look at future weak bones. I bought myself an exclusive milk only cup...lets see when that comes of use :)
