I’m on the Gen Z-Millenial cusp, which means I was born at the immensely specific point in history to have grown up as a child in a world where soda could essentially kill you.
You know, because of sugar and high fructose corn syrup and a lot of other things.
My parents never had soda in the house. Ever. If we went to a celebratory dinner, I was allowed only one uncaffenaited soda: Sprite, Root Beer, or a Shirley Temple, and it was a massive deal to be able to sip the sweet, bubbly concoction.


















