This will have special significance for some more than others.
Back in the day, when all six Titcombes lived in Lachine, we went through a lot of food and drink. So, to make things last a little longer, M&D mixed powdered milk into a big brown jug with regular milk. If you were lucky enough to get to finish the jug, you got the special honour of trying to avoid chunky, un-dissolved milk powder. Uhh, I still get shivers. That in itself is a whole other post.
I think this must have been at least a four litre, one gallon, jug. It was big, it had to be. After dinner, we'd all have a glass of milk with dessert. Let's say that Stef had the jug. Someone would ask her to pass it. She's lift it with one arm and get half-way to the person and then it began. A controlled epileptic fit, isolated only to the arm with the jug. She was shaking madly. "Hurry! Hurry! You guys, I can't hold it!"
Good brothers that we are, we'd make her wait a little while longer. The shaking would get a lot worse. Sometimes, if the jug was full enough, she'd start splashing milk out the top. Oh yeah, she shook like CRAZY! Finally, WHAM her arm would give out and the jug would slam back down the two inches she had it off the table.
We cried over the spilled milk, but only because we were laughing so hard.