Samuel tells me a story.
Samuel: …And then the princess got really mad and gave him the cold soda.
Me: A cold soda?
Samuel: Yes…
Me: Um…What was in the soda? (I was having flashbacks of car rides where there were no bathrooms anywhere near us and we used empty bottles instead…but that would be warm, so I was a bit confused.)
Samuel: Coke.
Me: I still don’t get it, was it because Coke was bad for him? Was this punishment by slow death of high-fructose corn syrup and preservative-laden ingredients? What a sly and cunning princess…death by soda!
Samuel: Nooo, mommy, that is just what you do when you’re mad. You give them the cold soda. It’s like a sign or something.
Me: Wait, do you mean cold shoulder?
Samuel: Why would someone give someone a cold shoulder when they’re mad? That’s gross. (He must have been picturing the shoulder unattached from a body.)
Me: You’re right, a cold soda makes much more sense.
