To a 10 year old, some things are sacred. Barbies, for instance. I was offended when a relative would attempt to give me drugstore imitation Barbies. Did my uncle really think that "Totally Hair Barbie" would associate with a lowlife like the "Long Locks Fashion Doll"? And just like my Barbie collection, milk was precious. It was the lifeblood of sugary breakfast cereals. Breakfast Cereals! Pure white milk flowing over marshmallows and chocolate-flavored crunchy heaven.

And she, the new stepmother, put ice in it.

At 10 years old, I considered myself an educated worldly woman. But I was sure that there was no civilized country in the world where a person would put ice in her milk. It totally freaked me out.