So. Munchkin and I have a wonderful ride home on the bus. She loves smiling at and talking to the people "going home! Home to see their families! And their toys!" We exit at our usual stop, right in the centre of our uptown district. She points at Starbucks as we wheel past, asking to go in for a "Starbucks." That's not on the agenda, but I distract her with what is.
"Look there, Munchkin," I say, pointing at the next building, "that's the liquor store. We're going to go in and buy, um, some liquor."
The Starbucks siren is momentarily eclipsed by this unexpected detour. "Liquor store," she repeats, gazing ahead thoughtfully.
We walk through the whooshing automatic doors into light jazz and air conditioning and tasteful music and carefully arranged displays of fine scotch, vintage port.
"YAY! LIQUOR!" yells my baby.
I decide to ignore her and head immediately and fairly briskly to the refrigerated wine cooler at the back, head down so that I can't see who might be staring. Or speed dialing the Children's Aid. Whatever.
In our staring-at-the-floor hurry, we nearly smack into the sample table in the middle of the aisle. An older genteleman in shirt and tie, with a clean white apron--a retail sommelier!--offers wee little plastic cups of two Ontario whites.
By this point, I need a drink, so obviously I say yes, choosing my words carefully in selecting the Riesling over the Chardonnay: it should be clear, I intend to convey, that I am a sipper of good taste, not a quaffer of mommy's little helper (appearances to the contrary, and despite the fact that the tens of tiny vessels lined up are exactly the ones the nurse uses to bring your pills). As I wax eloquent on the fine bouquet and fruity aftertaste of the Riesling, Munchkin decides to join the conversation: "We want LIQUOR!"
Her enthusiasm and clear diction and great volume do not speak well to my character, I am well aware. I grab a bottle of the Riesling and, hightail it toward the cash. Used to a more leisurely LCBO experience, Munchkin voices her protest: "No, Mom! I want more liquor!"
In a last ditch attempt at damage control, I wheel round and snatch a couple of toothpicked cheese cubes and shove one rather unceremoniously in her face, and fill her fists with the rest. After all, the mom whose kid is shouting out LIQUOR LIQUOR LIQUOR has bigger problems than a possible toothpick-choking.
Lordy.
The wine, though, was excellent :-)
Friday, August 08, 2008
Parenting, it's all about proud moments
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24 comments:
A glass of wine sounds lovely. I had to settle for a cold bottle of beer. Maybe you could've taught Munchkin to say wine. Then, perhaps you could play it off as if she's saying "whine". My Mason says beer, but doesn't pronounce the /r/ sound on the end. It's more like be-ya. "Oh, That's be-ya. That's yucky be-ya."
TGIF!
Ahhh you can even see the condensation on your glass...what a great photo!
I love a good riesling...
You deserve a glass or 3.
My daughter has taken to calling me 'bubbles', I wonder if it has anything to do with my preference for sparkling wine?
That cracked me up. Ah, what a cute little lush you have.
Riesling... one of my favs... only 7 more months of abstinence to go!
Mandy: not that you're counting or anything, right? ;-)
That's so funny! I cherish those moments...
She's gonna be a party-girl!
Ha ha, I always feel weird with Swee'pea in the liquor store. He says things like "Mowa bo, mama? Mowa?" [more beer?] like I don't have enough. And "Mommy nee mowa nye!" [mommy needs more wine!]
That is so funny! Hubby has this thing? program? on his iphone that looks like you are filling up a beer and when you tip the phone it looks like you are drinking it -which the girls think is funny. The other night out for dinner, Rosebud kept asking Daddy for a beer. I am not really sure what everyone thought about that.
Hahaha! Girl after my own heart.
The photo is perfect, too.
ha! My dad had an equally embarassing LCBO experience with my little brother. My little brother was quite the schmoozer and he LOVED talking to store clerks, cashiers - anyone who would listen. He thought he knew how to give them nice compliments.
So as my dad and brother are at the checkout, my dad is paying for the liquor he just picked up, and my brother says "This is a really great store! My dad comes here ALL THE TIME!"
I am writing a companion post to this one and I will link to you.
I have been humbled so many times in the LCBO it is ridiculous.
Laughing right out loud, and thinking about all the people I am going to send over to read this post!
Miss M calls it "Mommy Juice" (seriously) and explained to the nice gentlemen at the cash register once that Strongbow was "Mommy's FAVOURITE!"
Sigh.
Ha! Oh, this one made me laugh.
I took my kids to Trader Joe's, which is the kind of grocery store that has its own fan web site, and they got in a fight over who would give the groceries to the cashier, and I got hissing-mad -- you know that kind of mad? where you want to yell but you're in public so you can't? -- and my daughter shouted repeatedly, "I HATE THIS STORE! I'M NEVER COMING HERE AGAIN!" Which is not really the same as what you describe but afterward I thought it was hilarious, this fancy-pants store being dissed by a 4yo!
Oh, jeez louise, they never fail, do they? Just when you think they're all cute and won't embarrass you...
"Mommy likes to drink," my son saw fit to tell MY MOTHER IN LAW this weekend. Thank you, child.
Was the big explosion anywhere near your place?
The Boy can find the LCBO in the village without help. He helps mummy choose the pretty bottles. I'm a GREAT parent. :-)
That was funny. LOL for realsies!
I, too, often feel like shouting "Yay LIQUOR!" on entering the store.
Once, when we were having beer, I gave my daughter chocolate milk in her sippy and told her it was chocolate beer. If I'd thought a little, I think I would have heard the months of, "Where my beer?" that lay ahead.
I've been known to shout with glee upon entering a liquor store. Who can blame Munchkin? :)
Not quite on the same level, but my eldest son loves his "travel mug" filled with "coffee". And lets everyone know it, too.
Does she also chant BEER! at the beer store? That kid has won over my heart.
BBBAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!
I love that clear, loud, diction!!
I certainly enjoy Martinis (Mimi, sometime I'd like to debate the "two olives" issue with you), and so I often fix one or two around dinner time. My munchkin (four or five at the time) got interested once, and asked what I was doing... I said "I'm mixing a cocktail", or words to that effect. He asked if he could have one. I told him this was a "Daddy cocktail", and no, he can't have one of these, but sure, we could make a cocktail for him. So, I looked in the fridge and the bar, and came up with some pineapple juice, an open can of ginger ale, some maraschino cherries, and some Grenadine. I gave him some very precise but totally arbitrary ratios (two jiggers of pineapple juice, one jigger of ginger ale, one splash of Grenadine, one splash of juice from the cherry jar, one cherry for garnish (or something like that, who knows... )), and let him mix it. We christened that one a "Death Star". He loved it. I tried it too. Not bad!
Since then, we've enjoyed making and drinking Death Stars, Penguin Pinks, Wooki Wallbangers, Astro Blastergaters, and a range of other well crafted cocktails. It's fun... we do it together, and even I feel a rekindled eight-year-old thrill of "let's make something!" and "let's do an experiment!".
But, I do cringe, oh how I cringe, when -- in front of friends of family -- he asks, "Dad, can I have a cocktail?"
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