I have a sweet tooth, dozens of them actually. My mom blames my dad. When I was a baby, my mom used to work swing shifts and apparently when I would wake up in the middle of the night crying my dad would fork over a bottle of warm strawberry milk. Worked every time, he still proudly asserts. It’s uncertain whether I lost my baby teeth naturally or they fell out, rotten from all of the Nesquik. For those of you with kiddos, don’t take a page out of my pop’s book; I’m pretty sure a move like that would land you in serious hot water with CPS these days.
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