The Pepsi Glass

“He had it yesterday! No fairrrrrrr!”

“It’s my turn! I want it!”


And then came the tears (mine). And the pouting (also mine). And the hitting (them).

Almost every day, the same cries bellowed out in a variety of my children’s voices. For years, the Pepsi glass loomed large as the coveted vessel for everything from ice water to apple juice to chocolate milk to coffee milk. Ahhh, coffee milk, the guilty pleasure of my children. Then and now.

For a while back then, we had a schedule. Certain days of the week, each child had a turn and one day of the week, the glass rested. And that was the only peaceful day for anyone. But this schedule required Mom – me – to be really on top of things, and my children learned early that I was very easily gaslighted. Even before they knew the meaning of the term. I swear they grouped together and drew up plans to make me think I was crazy, or at least headed there on a fast train. And the Pepsi glass stood at the center of their scheming.

So, at some point, I took the glass and hid it away. I’d had it with the bickering and I figured they’d forget about it. They didn’t. They continued to ask about the glass for months, if not years. Then, one day, I pulled it out and used it as a pencil holder in the kitchen, and there it remained for maybe fifteen years. There was a little whining, but no bickering. I could tune out the whining. The pencil holder remained.

The other day, I was cleaning (as I seldom do), and I emptied that Pepsi glass, washed it, and put it back in the glasses cabinet. My kids are 20, 22, and 24, and they don’t all live at home. And it was the first glass used.

Today, my daughter said, “I saw the Pepsi glass!” And like an old friend returned from a long vacation, the Pepsi class has been welcomed back into our daily routine.

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