I cannot help but occasionally write about the melding of two passions of mine: Beer and kids. You see, I love beer, and I love all five of my kids…and before you ask, no, I do not love the brews more than the bambinos. So isn’t it natural that the two should coalesce into a post or two?
I want beer to be a very natural part of life for my kids; so much so, that when they come of age, beer is not some forbidden fruit to be consumed in large quantities. I do not want my kids to drink it for drinkings sake. I don’t want my kids, when of age, to run down to the local gas station and pick up a 24 pack of Bud Light, and drink one after the other like some sort of monotonous routine. So occasionally, I give my kids a teaspoon size sip of a brew. At their young age, their palates and minds are so wide open, that the more different flavors you get them used to, the less picky they’ll be. And, since one day I am sure one of my kids will be president of the United States of America, I am snubbing the potential for a Bush/Broccoli incident in the butt right now.
Anyhow, Ivan–my youngest–saw me pour a brew and had his mind made up that he was going to get it. When I would not allow him a sip, he was stretching his fat little hand towards the glass for about fifteen minutes. Eventually he even tried climbing up on a chair to get the brew.
Now, please share any beer and kids stories…I’d love to hear ‘em. Post a picture in the comments section even, if you know some basic html. And if you don’t have any kids and beer stories, feel free to tell my boy is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.