To Be Enjoyed Responsibly

Speaking of growing up to early in my earlier post, there was this odd story out of Detroit where a 15-month old toddler was mistakenly served alcohol at an Applebee's. Apparently, the mix-up occurred when an alcoholic mixed drink concoction was mislabeled "apple juice" and a poor waiter ended up pouring the contents into a kid drink where the child imbibed and subsequently began "acting funny." The fact that it's really tough for me to ascertain the profile of "acting normal" for a 15-month old is besides the point.

I can understand the mislabel leading to the pouring of the wrong drink, but I'm more surprised that junior didn't spit the concoction out. Even as a middle-aged man I don't like the taste of alcohol, but you can chalk that up with my Asian-low-tolerance genetic profile. Heck, on one of my first outings out with Daniel when he was around a year old, I gave him a taste of a taco sauce packet at Taco Bell and he proceeded to make a face that still cracks me up to this day and spit it out. In any case, the important thing is that the child is apparently fine, and police are investigating to see if this was somehow a deliberate and deplorable prank gone wrong.

It does get me thinking about how parents ought to introduce alcohol to their children. It's been said that in Europe, it's common for parents to have children partake in wine served at the dinner table, and the line of thinking there is that if children are reinforced with positive and responsible experiences with alcohol, they'll be inclined to enjoy alcohol as an adult would - in moderation and responsibly. There's also the "forbidden fruit" argument that posits that when you zealously deprive people of anything, you somehow increase the intrigue and attractiveness of that item.

At least for now, it looks as if my children aren't particularly interested in alcohol. It helps that we don't have a lot of it around the house, and when we do, it's not as if we make a big deal about it. As far as getting my kids to try a small sip of wine, I can't get my kids to try Sprite, which they somehow think smells "spicy" (I suppose they haven't picked up the descriptor of "carbonated" or "fizzy"), and they recoil from the wine glass in disgust as if it's been filled with dog poo.

Perhaps at the right time, my wife (the wine connoisseur of the family) will teach them to appreciate a fine glass of merlot, but for now we'll gladly accept their utter distaste for alcohol. Thankfully, I've been able to get Daniel back to Taco Bell, though he predictably stays away from the taco sauce.