"My Drink Tastes Funny"

We all have those time when we are just going through the motions. I really hate it when it happens while I'm driving, however, that's pretty common. They actually have a name for it, "highway hypnosis". It's kind of freaky because you don't even remember the drive. I wonder how many accidents happen while people are in this auto-pilot mode?

Anyway, I was getting myself some tea this afternoon out of my mom's fridge. I'd spent most of the day hanging out with the kids and didn't really pay much attention to my 3 year-old nephew when he asked for his red cup out of the fridge. I just handed it to him and went on pouring my tea.

This red cup is actually one of those large coffee thermal cups with a lid that you get at a convenience store. He loves to drink out of it, and it is like a big sippy-cup to him.

Nephew L takes the cup and happily walks away. I finish pouring my tea and happily walk away.

Fast forward to about 3 or 4 minutes later.

"My drink tastes funny" says Nephew L, tugging at my shirt and looking up at me. I immediately begin to dismiss this and decide to ignore him. In my defense, he had been exceptionally whiny today as well as asking each question at least four times.

As Nephew L begins to turn to walk away, my brain clicks in. You know the moment. The one where everything clicks and your brain starts really working again?

I began to think to myself:
"I don't remember him drinking out of that cup all day today"
"Wasn't he drinking out of a blue cup?"
"Mom and dad often leave cups of wine in the fridge."

Yep... I quickly grabbed the red cup out of Nephew L's hands. I yanked off the lid and took a big sniff. WINE!!! I turned to my SiL and started laughing. I told her what had happened, and she started laughing. Really, it was pretty hilarious. My SiL said she'd have to add that to the baby book: First Taste of Wine.

I'm guessing my dad had been drinking it and didn't finish, so put the cup back in the fridge. (at this point you may be asking why my dad would be drinking wine out of a red coffee mug. It's better that you don't ask, but if you must know, he tends to have a big glass of wine several nights a week, and sometimes he likes to carry it around with him. The red cup is spill-proof. There's no looking sophisticated with wine glasses around that house.)

I am not sure how much wine Nephew L had drank; enough that he had a big purple mustache. Is this how alcoholism begins? Will it be my fault if he turns out that he has a drinking problem at the age of 22? He's already pretty addicted to sweat tea. Where does it end?

Of course, this is nothing compared to my brother drinking out of my dad's spit cut when he was little (a story which my mother had to recount when I told her what had happened with the wine). Luckily, no one around the house chews anymore. Luckily.