Yesterday my Singles Branch had the usual Fast Sunday potluck. I planned on bringing rice and soy sauce, but after a moment of contemplation I felt I should bring something else, something more potluck-y. After all, who really brings rice to a potluck? I couldn’t scrounge up anything else, so I grabbed a 2-liter bottle of pink lemonade sitting in our garage. It must have been in our garage for quite some time; the gritty film of dust on the top of the bottle proved evidence of that. I strolled into potluck with my rice, soy sauce, and pink lemonade, dropped everything in its designated place, and began to flit around like the social butterfly I am. A while later Chelsey, a girl in my Branch, pours herself a cup, smacks her lips a bit, and says, “Kirsten, this lemonade tastes kind of funny.” Hm, that’s weird; how can lemonade taste funny? I had to try it. And sure enough, it tasted… odd. I even tried swishing it around like wine-tasters do, but it still didn’t taste right. We couldn’t figure out why it tasted so suspicious until somebody looked at the expiration date: December 2003. It is September 2007. Somebody suggested that it probably fermented; hey, makes sense to me. So, since nobody in attendance at potluck drinks fermented anything (plus the fact that it tasted funny) the remainder of my lemonade got poured down the drain. I think next time I’ll skip the rice and hard lemonade and just bring Jell-o.