Cheering Down The Freeway

, , , , | Related | June 21, 2018

(When I am around seven years old, there is a string of drunk-driving incidents in my hometown, mostly related to underage drivers. It is all over the local news for several weeks, and it really upsets my mom. Because I often carpool with a friend to school, with her older sibling driving us, she sits me down and has a long talk with me about not riding in cars with people who have been drinking, to call her or my dad if I don’t feel safe riding with someone, etc. Unfortunately, she neglects to clarify for seven-year-old me exactly what beverages constitute “drinking and driving,” because we have this gem of a conversation about a week later:)

Me: *running into her room* “Mommy!”

Mom: “Yes, sweetie?”

Me: “You know how Daddy drove me to gymnastics today?”

Mom: “Yes?”

Me: “Well… um… Is wine a ‘drink’?”

Mom: *stunned silence* “[My Name], are you saying your father was drinking wine in the car?”

Me: “Yeah! It said it on the can!”

Mom: *jumping up and grabbing the phone off the hook* “I can’t believe he… Wait, what can?”

Me: “It said it in big letters, ‘CHEERWINE’!” *a form of cherry soda*

Mom: *slams the phone down* “Oh! Oh, thank God!”

(We then had different talk about drinks that are okay to have in the car. My dad thought it was hilarious and still likes to tell people that story nearly 30 years later.)

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