I have a secret stash of soda in my study. It’s mostly for bad headaches (or bad hankerings.) It isn't really a secret from my family, but I have to keep it hidden or it will rapidly disappear. (Not that my nutritionist would mind; I will add that I have been soda-free for a week now.)
“Daddy, can I have a soda?” asked Natalie this afternoon strolling into my study.
Erika was right behind her and before I could answer the mentor sister instructed, “No, no, no Natalie. That’s not how you do it. You’ve got to warm him up a little first.”
Then Erika turned to me, smiled, and asked, “Hey Dad. How are you? Are you having a good day? How is the stock market?”
I told her to save it; I was already warm. She had me at the smile.
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