I watch The Kid struggle with his bottle of root beer. He's grabbing it around the neck to hoist it to his mouth, his own fist blocking his lips from making full contact with the bottle. A bit of soda dribbles down his chin.
"Don't you want to pour that into the nice frosty mug she brought you?"
"Nope," he says, raising the bottle to his lips once again. He takes a gulp and, satisfied, declares, "I want to drink it like a man."