Why I Reach For Milk When I’m Craving Something Sweet
When I was a kid, I often had trouble going to sleep. I would plod down the steps in a pink frilly rayon nightgown, my mother clasping my hand. She’d place a kid-sized plastic cup, also pink, in the microwave with what couldn’t have been more than a half cup of milk. Sixty seconds later, my belly would be full of warm liquid, and my eyelids would get a little heavier. Then back to my room, under...