I know.
When I first bought pink grapefruit juice it was as if I'd brought home rat poison in a bottle labelled Yummy, Yummy Stuff, Get You Feeling Fizzy With No Consequences.
Mum pitched a fit. On Dad's behalf.
I actually stuck a label across the opening in case he mistook the size of the carton, and the different packaging AND the colour of the juice...
I don't have to do that any more, in the same way I don't have to label my knickers so that Dad doesn't wear them. He gets confused, but he's not a complete basket case.
I do get where Mum was coming from though.
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