I used to love drinking a lot of cherry soda. It's sweet, it's yummy, and it's a pretty chemical-red color. I'd always have a couple cans next to me as I read or blogged or wrote, until I had my annual trip to the dentist.
He hmm'd and haw'd and took some x-rays and fiddled around before making two announcements. One, my wisdom teeth were growing in and that they were hurting (yes, he actually told me that as if I wasn't aware of the pain). And two, I might have to get a root canal if that cavity in already-once-filled-tooth got any larger.
He told me that second announcement as in a cheery and upbeat tone, like it was the most marvelous thing he got to tell anyone in his whole life. I smiled, thanked him, and promptly went home to floss my teeth until they bled and brush them until the toothbrush snapped in half and guzzled several gallons of mouthwash.
Oh yeah, and I threw out all the candy and cherry soda.
Now, a month or two later, I have a rather large bag of candy sitting next to me, and I sometimes floss, but I still don't drink cherry soda. Nope, only water for me.
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