Diet Pop, Cigarettes, Cancer, and Guilt

As soon as she could, my sister would step outside to have a smoke. She loved the extended layover we had in St. Louis, because there, in that airport, they have smokers' lounges. As soon as we'd get off the airplane, she head outside for her fix. As soon as she'd wake up in the morning, she'd head out to my aunts patio for her fix. After lunch - she'd head outside. After a long drive - she'd stay outside for a bit. Before going to bed, she'd head outside for one last cigarette.

I like my Diet Pepsi. It's got zero calories, enough caffeine to get me through the day, and it doesn't taste that bad either.

Every morning, while I was enjoying my one can for the day, my mom would remind me how bad that stuff is for me. The fake sweetener. She'd remind me of those in my family with various forms of cancer and how she truly believes that since those women were so hooked on their diet pop, that the diet pop had something to do with their cancer. And deep down, I agree with her. I don't like that I need to have a diet pop to get me going in the morning. I don't like that I can't pronounce the stuff in the ingredients. I don't like that it's not natural. And I've never believed it to be good for me.

But what just got to me was the fact that while I'm listening to my mom talk to me about how bad that stuff is for me, my sister would be on the other side of the sliding glass door enjoying her cigarette in peace.

I like to believe it's because she loves me more. But it's probably because my sister has heard it all before.

I had a diet pop every morning of our trip. Since being home, I've probably had a total of 2 cans. I've switched over to coffee. Coffee with lots of sugar and flavored cream, but no fake sweetener. I guess after 31 years, my mom still knows how to watch out for me.