While reading an article last night about fathers and sons, memories came flooding back to the time I took my son out for his first beer.
Off we went to our local pub only two blocks from home.
I got him a Guinness. He didn’t like it, so I drank it.
Possibly too strong a taste, so I bought him a Worthington’s, he didn’t like that either, so I drank it.
Possibly something lighter? I thought he might like a local lager.
He didn’t. I drank it. Something sweeter? He didn’t like Woodpecker cider. I drank that too.
In desperation, I got him a single malt. He totally refused it.
What could I do but drink it!
By the time I realized he just didn’t like to drink, I was so flaming drunk I could hardly push his pram back home.
