Pepsi, fully loaded with sugar, is a new craze for Don after I threatened him within an inch of his life for taking the last of my Diet Coke. No diet products for this guy. Pure unadulterated sugar.
In preparation for his birthday visit from Hunter and Christmas visitation with Jillian, Kevin and Greg, I buy him a 24-can case of Pepsi. Plenty of room in his mini-refrigerator, so I ask him to unload the cardboard carton. It will take a couple days to complete the task, but that’s OK. He can’t drink all 24 at once. He might open all 24, but he won’t drink all 24. It’s a gamble.
Today I find the empty carton and try to break it down for recycling. Inside, I find wrappers from pudding mixes, fruit cups, mini-apple pies, and sticks from corn dogs he recently consumed. I figure he used the cardboard carton as a garbage can instead of using the designated one set up for him within an arm’s length. Whatever! Then I find a Camel cigarette butt.
I tell myself that, No, that cigarette butt can’t be his. Can it? Smells fresh. He knows better than to smoke in the house. Where the hell did he get a cigarette? It better not be his! Nah, nobody was here recently that smokes … that I know about. It could be another creative way to burn down the house now that he’s banned from the kitchen.
Note to Self: Like I would know what a fresh cigarette smells like.