So I woke up today and found the house empty. Turns out, my dad was at work, my siblings were at Islamic summer camp classes and my mom was out shopping and no one would be home for a few hours.
I was left unsupervised for several hours straight at home.
And so, in all my teenage rebellion glory, I decided to have chocolate milk for breakfast. Because you know this girlie pop loves her choccie milk.
And so I quickly freshened up and eagerly leapt to the kitchen for my delicious breakfast. I didn't wanna go all the way to the store and purchase a choccie milk, so I decided to make my own.
I got the milk, sugar, cocoa powder, drinking chocolate powder, ice and blender. All the basic ingredients cuz we didn't have much at home (which was why my mom was out shopping).
Now the thing about the blender is that my mom often refers to it as her precious gold. The blender is sacred in this household and whoever so much as even sets it down too hard, invokes the wrath of my mom. So, in order to preserve my life, I took great measures to make sure nothing happens to it. But while pouring the milk, I paused.
I knew that the blender had a minimum capacity for it to do thr blending, but I didn't know what. So I just poured it till the first measuring line. I made my chocolate milk, meticulously measuring each ingredient with my soul and even adding some coffee to it.
And then, it was done! But with everything blended together, the choccie milk had somehow risen in volume even though all the ingredients were milk and powders. So I grabbed the biggest glass in our house and that thing is HUGE. It's as big as my water bottle.
But even after filling the glass to the brim, there was still, like, half of the contents of the blender left. I shrugged and plopped an ice cube in, resolving to drink the other half after I did my chores. So I drank the first glass and since I was hungry, it didn't take long. I was chugging the glass like a man who had just gotten through a breakup, paid bail and had staggered into the first bar he found.
I did my chores and stuff then poured the rest of the blender contents. It filled the entire glass yet again. Fyi, half the contents were not foam. The foam took overall 4% of the space, the rest was pure chocolate milk. Idk how my quarter-blender chocolate milk turned into a three-quarters-blender chocolate milk, but I'm starting to think now that there is a reason why my mom loves that blender more than her husband and children and the reason might be that I think the Spirit of Chocolate Milk decided to cross over from the Spirit World and take the mortal form of Blender (I recently started watching atla).
Anyways, it took me a while to chug the entire chocolate milk. And when I did, I fell sick.
Now, you might ask me, "Quo, why didn't you just share it with your siblings when they got back?" The answer is: If I had to trade chocolate milk as ransom for my siblings, I would shoot them myself.
(For legal purposes, this is a joke, but the seriousness is there)
And I couldn't very well share it with my parents because they're recently started talking about physical health and gyms, enhancing my gym-phobia and increasing my desperation to start a badminton club myself because the only physical exercise I find comfortable is taking a racquet and beating the shit out of cocks. Shuttlecocks. So if they found out that I had, most likely, roughly a litre of chocolate milk for breakfast, they would freak. So I had no choice but to finish it.
Anyways, as soon as I finished the huge ass glasses of chocolate milk, I started to feel the consequences of my unregrettable and unsupervised actions.
My stomach became sentient and decided to master water-bending and bend the water inside itself to torture the shell that held it. I felt like puking my breakfast out, but no way in hell was I gonna let my stomach get in the way of my one true love. So I refused to puke out the chocolate milk.
I endured the attack of the Puke Nation and finally prevailed. And of course, lamented to my friends about it because I'm a dramatic bitch.
I quickly washed the blender and the glass and cleared everything out just in time as my mom and sisters came home.
And guess what she brought for me. No, guess.
She got me chocolate milk. She went to the store, saw a bottle on clearance, and bought it. And if I don't drink it today, it will expire.
Anyway, it's been 6 hours, that's enough time to give my stomach a break from a litre of chocolate milk, right?
If I don't update, you can correctly assume that I committed death via chocolate milk overdose. Drink on, soldiers 🫡
