I have a superpower.

Whenever I open a bottle of Dr. Pepper (the name-brand stuff, not the store brand) it explodes.

I’m not kidding; Every. Single. Time.

It happened again on Saturday; I was preparing to enjoy my delicious grilled cheese sandwich (I live a luxurious life) and decided to quench my thirst with a refreshing beverage.

Enter my nemesis – Cherry Dr. Pepper.

Oh, Doctor ... I both love and fear you.

I approach the bottle cautiously, the way you would act if you saw a spider you were not sure was poisonous or not. Gripping it firmly, I gave the top a cautious tweak.


“Okay,” I thought, “that’s not bad, just a little gas. And there’s a few bubbles, that’s expected. maybe this time …

Oh, hell.”



Dark red liquid went everywhere. Me, the table, my plate, the floor, a few cats that were hoping for a handout; everywhere. And of course I had to clean it up before it dried and got sticky, which meant a dish towel and a few rags were added to the list of casualties. And the cats were just thrilled that they had been sprinkled with a liquid.

My sandwich was cold by the time I was able to enjoy it, but I did have my glass of Cherry Dr. Pepper.

It tasted like sweet revenge.