PDQ

 

Mornings in our house were anything but calm. My brother, sister, and I would dash around like chickens with our heads cut off—grabbing books, coats, and lunchboxes while Mama stood in the middle of the chaos, calling out, “Y’all better hurry up or you’re gonna be late!” Somehow, we always made it out the door, though usually with a shoe untied or a piece of toast clutched in one hand.

 

Looking back, I miss those crazy mornings. But more than that, I miss the silly little things that made them special—like the day Mama came home from the grocery store with a new product she said we’d love.

 

It came in a small glass jar filled with dark brown pellets. The label read PDQ. I was helping Mama unpack groceries when I spotted it, and I couldn’t resist picking it up for a closer look. The words on the label promised that these tiny pellets could turn an ordinary glass of milk into chocolate milk—something that, in our house, was considered pure luxury.

 

“Mama, can I try it?” I asked eagerly.

 

She smiled and said, “You can—but just one spoonful, you hear?”

 

I followed her directions carefully, pouring the little chocolate balls into my glass and stirring like I was conducting a science experiment. And sure enough, as I stirred, the milk turned from plain white to a rich chocolate brown. One sip and I was hooked. That PDQ was magic!

 

I don’t remember if the label explained what the letters stood for, so I asked Mama. Without missing a beat, she said, “Pretty Darn Quick!”

 

And she was right. From that day forward, our mornings were fueled by cereal—usually Captain Crunch or whatever happened to be on sale—and tall glasses of PDQ chocolate milk. Looking back now, I shudder to think of the sugar we were cramming into our growing bodies, but back then, it was pure bliss.

 

One afternoon after school, my siblings and I decided we were hungry enough for a snack before dinner. Peanut butter sandwiches were our go-to, but that day, one of us got a bright idea. “What if we sprinkled a little PDQ on top of the peanut butter?”

 

We worked fast—PDQ, you might say—so Mama wouldn’t catch us experimenting in her clean kitchen. We slapped the bread together, took a big bite, and laughed as tiny chocolate balls spilled out onto the counter. But oh, the taste! That combination of creamy peanut butter and chocolate was heavenly.

We didn’t know it then, but I like to think we were on the verge of greatness—standing at the kitchen counter, sticky-faced inventors, just a step away from creating the world’s first Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. We just didn’t quite have our formula right.

 

These days, I wouldn’t dare start my morning with that much sugar, but sometimes, when I pass the chocolate milk mix at the store, I can almost hear Mama calling out from the kitchen—

“Y’all better hurry up or you’re gonna be late!”

 

And for a moment, I’m right back there again—running late, laughing with my siblings, and drinking my Pretty Darn Quick milk before it was time to jump in the car and go.

 

Life moves pretty darn quick, too, doesn’t it? One moment we’re kids racing to beat the school bell, and the next we’re grown-ups longing for one more taste of those simple, carefree mornings. I’m grateful for the memories that still bubble up like laughter from the past—reminders that even in the rush, love was always at the heart of our home.

 

Heavenly Father, thank You for the sweet, ordinary moments that make up a life—mornings filled with laughter, family, and even a little spilled chocolate milk. Help me to slow down long enough to savor the blessings You’ve placed in each new day. Amen.