I’ll take Dr. Pepper in any fashion. On the fountain, in a can, in a small bottle (plastic or glass), in a big bottle (stomach ache city), in a huge refillable collectible cup from a 7/11, Dublin-style, throw back, whatever you wanna call it—if it’s Dr. Pepper I’ll drink it.

At least that’s how I felt about it over a year ago. It was my go to beverage when I cut booze out. Once I really took into account the fact that I was drinking 2 or 3 44oz cups of it per day…ugh…I knew a change had to be made. That was in January of 2015. I made the switch to no soda, and replaced it with black coffee—no nothin’. My vice with coffee is an entirely different thing, not what I’m talkin’ about right now.

Now, I occasionally indulge in it here and there, but I always feel guilty. But my ups and downs with Dr. Pepper didn’t begin there. Dr. Pepper and I go way back:

  • I remember being 7 or 8 on vacation in New Mexico and being sick. My mom gave me the liquid-gel version of cough medicine. I had a Dr. Pepper to swallow the medicine with. I being a kid who knew no better but into the liquid-gel not realizing I could’ve just swallowed it. It was some horrendous orange flavor, I gulped the Dr. Pepper down to wash away the taste. It didn’t work, and it also ruined Dr. Pepper for me for a good 3 years or so. I could drink it without remembering the taste of that orange stuff and gagging. I know…devastating loss.
  • I remember as a preteen and “tween” going to my dad’s house in Oklahoma in the summer and going to the grocery store with him. All I ever wanted was Dr. Pepper, because I knew at his house I could drink as much of it as I liked. I took FULL advantage of that liberty and more until my stomach felt like it was carbonated with molasses. Not comfortable.
  • I discovered Dublin Dr. Pepper or Imperial Sugar Dr. Pepper in college. Umm…life changing.
  • I was endlessly ridiculed by friends throughout my teen, college, and young adult years for ordering “DP” instead of Dr. Pepper…yeah yeah, I get why it sounds weird, but I’ll call it whatever I want.

I still have on occasion gone a couple days in a row having Dr. Pepper and feeling sort of gleefully guilty about it. I haven’t ever reverted back to the oversized gas station soda drinking I was at. And, now I prefer getting a Doppelgänger or a Dublin-style over a straight up Dr. Pepper any day. Real sugar just can’t stand up to high fructose corn syrup.