After months of intermittent worry and lackadaisical searching, I finally looked in the pile of plastic bags next to the sink today and found it: my 7-up cup.
Those who know my history with the cup, which I got from a crane machine when I was in fourth grade, will rejoice with me.
I haven't yet taken a celebratory drink from the 7-up cup, but I will.
Oh, I will.
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