Quote:
Originally posted by Replaced_Texan
I went to the Greek Festival last night, and I'm remarkably un-hungover. I think the six of us went through six or seven bottles of wine.
Anyhow, after the first bottle of wine was consumed by our group, I was forced to relate (again) that the Greek Festival was the very first place I ever got drunk. I was three. My dad, for reasons only known to him, loves Retsina, that Greek white resin wine that tastes like turpetine. My mom wisely hates it. Anyhow, we were at the festival and he'd bought a bottle of wine, and I kept on going from parent to parent asking for a sip. My mother happily obliged me. Unbeknownst to her, my dad was also feeding me wine. (I know now that he was trying to hook me the paint thinner while I was young and didn't know any better, so he'd have a drinking companion in later years. It worked. I actually like the stuff. I take this to be a perversion on my part, and I think anyone else who likes it is crazy.) Predictably, I started slurring my speach and wobbling. My parents were horrified that they managed to get their three year old trashed. I was apparently very easy to put to bed that night.
Your first over-indulgence?
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Similar. 4 years old, backyard barbeque amongst neighbors. While others were distracted, I took a can of beer and wandered off with it.
Parents were surprised and dismayed when I demonstrated that they had a blotto son on their hands a good decade before they anticipated, but at least they learned that I was a happy drunk.
