One of my uncles used to walk my sister and I to the corner store a few blocks away in North Tarrytown and buy us a bottle of Yoo-Hoo, then we'd either walk back home or to the park down the block from the store. He would stand in front of the house on the sidewalk (my family lived in the bottom flat of the house my grandparents owned) and wait for one or both of us to run out to accompany him. I don't remember if I was already in love with Yoo-Hoo before, but those excursions solidified its place in my life. I often said I dreamed of swimming in a vat of Yoo-Hoo, I loved the stuff so much; maybe not so much now, but it's been good.

Please tell me that's an empty bottle, tho... >;)