Yesterday morning, as I watched Summer School, a film I’ve seen many, many times, I made myself chocolate yogurt. Two single serving yogurts and a bunch of Hershey’s chocolate syrup. As I did it, I remembered being a kid and doing it. Putting chocolate syrup in plain yogurt when we didn’t have vanilla for some reason. It’s really gross in the plain yogurt and it’s not much better in the vanilla because there’s just something not right about mixing things into yogurt. Liquids, I mean. It changes the consistency in a not great way. The first time I watched Summer School, my mom gave me the rental tape after she was done watching it. Eighties and early nineties Mark Harmon was her guilty beefcake. I mean, let’s be real—“Reasonable Doubts” and “Charlie Grace” ftw—the world is a lesser place without at least the former not being readily available. So she let me watch Summer School and it became a childhood, then teenage favorite. Perfect thing to eat a questionable snack with. Proust was classy with his madeleines. I used to drink 2-liter bottles of Dr. Pepper and watch all the Alien movies overnight.