I was just beginning to feel a little smug about my non-consumption of sodas, Michelle, but then I realized you'd open my fridge and regard my bacon and ground beef with the charity of Elijah regarding the worshippers of Baal.

Peace, my friend. Om.

And what's this about a dollop of whiskey in a child's tea?

My abstemious forebears would like a word.

(I still adore you.)