Every once in a while Ryan will look over at me from across the room and whisper even though it’s just us, “Hey, you wanna go to the liquor store with me?”
This is always confusing to me since (1) We’re both Mormon and don’t drink any alcoholic beverages, and (2) Do people still say “liquor store”? The only other person I’ve heard say “liquor store” is my grandpa, and he died a few years ago from old age.
What you must know is that by “liquor store” Ryan means convenient store, or, specifically, the Sinclair gas station down the street from our house. What he wants is a Gatorade, specifically an orange Gatorade–and no, not mango x-treme, just orange.
“Yes, we can go get you a Gatorade,” I say tonight, after he asks me again. “I’m craving a diet Coke anyway.”
Ryan gets very excited about this, but becomes impatient when I tell him, “Hold on. I have to blog about this.”
Even now as I write this Ryan is saying, “Are we gonna go to the liquor store? Come on, hurry up!”