Warning: this post involves alcohol and toddlers (not my own alcohol and not my own toddlers). If you are teetotal or find the very idea unsavoury, look away. Look away now.
Everyone has them. A story about you from your childhood that your parents relish. A story that is brought out at dinner parties or random social events. A story that has long ago stopped embarrassing you and become part of your childhood landscape.
My mum’s favourite story puts me in a dubious light, but her even more so. I guess you could say embarrassment runs both ways…
When I was about 3.5 years old, I accompanied my parents to a Christening. My little brother was about one year old, so mum had her hands full—of both my little brother and a celebratory Pimms. As you do. It was a christening after all, and the 70s.
My second cousin, let’s call her “Shona”* and I were hanging out, chewing the fat. Shona was about a year older than me and as the christening party progressed, we started to get a little thirsty. Our parents were occupied, so we began helping ourselves to the dregs of all the glasses on the tables, full of god knows what. Apparently, I got myself an early taste for the liquor, because we collectively polished off everyone’s drinks and ended up in a heap on the floor, eyes rolling out of our heads, giggling stupidly.
One of the pastors interrupted my mum and said,
“Pam, I think your daughter has had too much to drink.”
Mortified, mum grabbed me from under the table and took me home, cutting our presence at the party short.
Demonstrating an early predilection for being able to hold my liquor, I apparently wasn’t sick, just fell asleep in the car on the way home.
*Shona is her real name. I have no need to protect the guilty.
What is your parents’ favourite story about you from your childhood?