Um, hello, I love you. Vodka Root beer Floats from the Minimalist Baker.
Since my grandpa moved to Philly, he has dinner at my parents’ every sunday. At this dinner, two things always happen: One, Figgy ushers my gramps to a chair and plops on his lap to act as lap warmer/Kindle stand, never to move until he’s forced. The other thing that always happens is that my gramps and pop have root beer floats after dinner. Except they call them “brown cows” for some reason. I never have one but I find it very endearing. Maybe I will add vodka to the floats next time! I bet if I asked, my gramps would say he’s never had vodka—but he says the same thing about wine every time we pour him a glass.