Big Glugs

My wife and I affectionately call servings of soda “glugs.” I’m not sure how it came about, but it’s the perfect word for them. I’m certain that if the folks at 7-11 called them Big Glugs instead of Big Gulps there would be more 7-11 stores that Wal-Marts.

Glugs are quite possibly the strongest point of dissonance between Lindsay and me. I am currently engaged in an effort I call “Bringing Back the Bump” (shedding the weight I gained since our wedding), and Lindsay is convinced that the diet glugs I drink are hindering my progress. The only thing I am convinced of is that I like the way the taste, the fizzy bubbles, the different flavors, and the way it feels in my mouth.

For a while I decided I was “off glugs,” meaning I didn’t drink them anymore. But there was a hole in my heart in the shape of a 20 oz bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper and I re-embraced their bubbly friendship after a few days. Then I decided I was “over glugs,” meaning I’m no longer in love with them, but still hang out with them a lot.

The more I think about it, the more I realize it’s a pretty messed up deal. It’s like I tell my friends: I’m not addicted to glugs. I just like them a lot and need to drink them all the time.