“Mom, is there any more tomato juice?”

“I think there’s another in the basement, but don’t open it ’cause there’s a bunch of juice open in the fridge.”

I take her word for it, knowing the usual state of that fridge, and drink seltzer instead. (It’s cold enough in here to drink without refrigerating.) A few hours later, I decide to see if any of this plethora of juices includes one I might want to drink. I open the fridge, and am slightly confused, for I’m having a bit of trouble finding them.

I think the word you’re looking for was MILK, Ma. There’s no room for a jug of tomato juice in the fridge because there’s a shit-ton of milk in there.

“Sweetened lime juice” does not count as juice, and the sparkling grape cocktail is 10% juice at best, and still sealed, so unless you’re suddenly counting soy and almond milk as bean and nut juice, there is ONE small bottle of juice open in the fridge. So I drank it.

Now there is none, but don’t worry, you’ve got cream, 2 creamers, 2 things of half and half, 2 different non-dairy milks, and 4 half gallons of normal milk to choose from (including 2 of whole milk, which as far as I know no one in my family drinks/uses)… so let me know when I can open the V8.