Start 'Em Young.

I gotta get off the sauce. Really. I thought I had kicked this nasty habit. I even blogged about how I was done with it. Little did I know it was waiting to prey on me when I was my most tired, my most vulnerable. I know I'll try to kick it again, I just have to find the strength. It won't be today. Today I had two.

Turns out Cameron has also developed a taste for the stuff, or at least she thinks it's hella fun to shake up the cans and roll them around on the floor. Hmmm...maybe I shouldn't let her play with the enemy. Or maybe it's okay, just so long as I don't let her drink it. I equate it to playing with Barbies. I played with those big-boobed, tiny waisted, gravity defying dolls well into my teens (shut up) and I turned out just fine. Sure I have a fetish for padded bras and corsets, and I am oddly attracted to men who shellack their hair and sport those orange spray tans, but I'm sure that has nothing to do with my 10 year Barbie love affair.

I know I am not alone - there are many others who love them some Diet Coke. And they don't hang their heads in shame either, they embrace it, wave their freak flag high. For now I am going to join in, until I am stronger and don't have such a deep seeded need for caffeine. One day... but not today.