Juicing It

I've been obsessed lately with regulating the junk that LPP consumes - junk in the form of excess sugar and excess television.  Tonight, LPP told me he wanted to drink some juice, specifically the Tropical Punch that is shamefully sitting in our fridge. I firmly informed LPP that he wasn't going to have the Tropical Punch, but that I would give him some O.J. (watered down) as a treat with dinner.  And then I thought to actually read the label on both containers of juice, because in the book, French Women Don't Get Fat, the author wrote about how O.J. is a big sugar offender in American diets.  But apparently not as big an offender as the Tropical Punch, it turns out (not surprisingly)!  Actual juice was way down on the list of ingredients.

LPP sees me reading the ingredients labels and asks to read the back of the container of Tropical Punch.  I hand him the container and, using his index finger to point out the words, this is what he reads back to me:

 LPP: It says "You can have it LPP*!  20 hours ago. Yes, LPP!"

I see law school in his future.

*(note: obviously, he said his own name; I am substituting LPP for his name)