Our house was filled
with family and friends gathered to welcome in the New Year. While some were scattered about the
kitchen and living room, most of the adults were crowded around the dining room
table, filling the house with talk and laughter and enjoying the food and wine
that was present in abundance.
I’m not sure just how things got started, but at some point I felt I
should be able to have more than a sip of wine without sneaking it by my parents,
and to my surprise, they agreed.
After that my memory of events is rather limited and hazy. I don’t know how much wine I consumed,
probably not very much, but enough to do a job on me.
I remember having a
silly grin on my face that would not go away as my mother led me through the
dining room and upstairs to my bedroom.
I’m pretty sure there was significant laughter as I passed by our
guests. To my credit, I did not
throw up; apparently I was a tiger even at that tender age.
I don’t think I felt very
well the next morning. The wine
must have loosened my tongue because my mom and dad asked me about Irene, a
classmate with whom I was severely smitten, and who I had never spoken about to
my parents.
After that episode I
had no interest in consuming large amounts of wine or beer.
Looking back, I’m
convinced that my mother saw the wisdom in allowing me to make a fool of myself
in the safety of our home. She was
a devious saint.
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