My wife and I were enjoying a glass of wine with dinner the other night, and it reminded me of a time when I was just a youngster. My parents would also enjoy a glass of wine with dinner, and for some reason they allowed me to have just a splash of wine with my ginger ale. This made me feel like a grown-up, as I was eating my chicken nuggets. “Mom, this is really good wine,” was a common response that came from me, as I sipped my Canada Dry and Carlo Rossi concoction. Truthfully, as a child, I really enjoyed the taste of the ginger ale better by itself, but wanted to be more like a grown up.
My parents allowed me to do other grown up things whilst I was a youth. For instance, my parents never thought twice of allowing me to have a cup of coffee for breakfast … folks, I was a hyper 5-year old as it was – the coffee probably didn’t help. Sure, it was probably more like half a cup of milk, half coffee, and about 5 teaspoons of sugar, but still.
My obsession with growing up was insatiable. I remember being at a picnic over my neighbor’s house. The neighbor, who was kind of like the funny guy of the neighborhood, and I got to talking. I was probably around 3 or 4 at the time. I admired his beard, and expressed how I would very much like to grow one myself. The neighbor, without skipping a beat, gave me the “secret” of growing a beard. He said that I needed to rub beer on my face, and this would help stimulate the growth of hair on my face. Heck, the guy could’ve told me to rub dog sh*t on my face, and I probably would’ve believed him. The neighbor, drinking a can of Budweiser, proceeded to pour some of it on my hands, so that I could saturate my cheeks and chin with the cold gold. I never grew the beard, but I’m sure my parents enjoyed the fact that I smelled like the guy at end of any bar.
Do any of you remember stories like this?
Writing Prompts for 12.14
18 hours ago