The problem with chocolate milk is a simple one, as problems go. It begins thusly: I, for once happening to have the necessary ingredients for the creation of a glass of chocolate milk, arise from my computer or musical equipment or reading and proceed to the kitchen, whereupon I procure a glass, a spoon, and the aforementioned ingredients. Some amount of pouring and vigorous stirring later, I return to my previous task, with ten or twelve ounces of the subject-at-hand in hand. Sitting, I raise the glass to my lips for a little sip, and hardly notice the liquid flowing past my tongue. Setting down the glass, I return to my computing or reading or music-making. Moments or minutes later, I decide it is time for a second sip, and I pick up the glass, only to discover, to my dismay and sadness, that it is in fact empty already, and I don't even really remember drinking or enjoying it during that first "sip". I might just as well have drank it all in the kitchen in the first place. That is the problem with chocolate milk.