Beer For Babies!

This year Holly and I continued our annual tradition of December 26th shopping with a day at the outlet malls. We took Chris along with us (duh!), and everything was going swimmingly until we ventured into the Harry & David store.

For the uninitiated, Harry & David stores are purveyors of fine foods, coffee, tea, candy, etc. While the clientele in the north Georgia mountains isn't exactly high-brow, they're not exactly inbred mountain folk either...but I digress. The point is this...

We were checking out at the cash register, and were prepared to leave when Chris noticed a Dr. Pepper can that Holly had left behind. While a normal child may have just let this pass, ours is a little different. Case in point, the following tale:

Over the summer Holly and I traditionally throw what we call a Birthaversary party in celebration of my birthday and our wedding anniversary which, coincidentally, fall on the same day. During this year's festivities Chris managed to find himself a (closed!) can of Miller Lite, which he clung to for the remainder of the day and referred to as "My Beer!" He even traded up for a colder version a couple hours after grabbing the initial can. Quite the proud moment for any father, as you can imagine. Of course, what we didn't expect was that from that point forward, every can of ANY beverage would be known as "beer." Which leads me to another amusing anecdote...

We had decided going into the summer that we'd like to try to have another baby (read, have lots of sex and see what happens). Since married men get sex only on their anniversary and their birthday, I'm sort of screwed (so to speak), and only get it once a year. Thankfully it took and Holly and I are expecting a baby boy in the spring. She is, of course, showing at this point and looks rather like she swallowed a smallish balloon rather than beached whale comparison that some other pregnant women draw. This may seem to be beside the point, but kindly read on...

Meanwhile, back at the day after Christmas:
So we're at Harry & David's, and Holly has left behind her can of Dr. Pepper. Chris notices this, and before we can even THINK to grab the can and silence what we know is inevitable, he shouts at the top of his lungs to my visibly pregnant wife, "Don't forget your your beer, Mommy!" This drew immediate looks of scorn and disdain from the snootier clientele, but infinitely more disturbing were the knowing glances and nods of approval from the somewhat less than savory customers. Holly was of course quite embarrassed, and I was of course quite pleased that my little man had proven to the world that his parents had raised him right.

The moral of the story, folks, is this:
If you're going to teach your kids about the wonders of beer, do it quietly and in the comfort of your own home. And make DAMN sure that they understand that not ALL canned beverages are beer...it can get a little embarrassing!