Turning Water Into Milkshake

(I’m a youth group leader at my church. My parish holds several potlucks throughout the year. One time, I am sitting with the pastor when I see one of my younger kids come by, looking very pouty.)

Me: “Hey, buddy, what’s wrong?”

Kid: “The ‘panish ladies won’t give me a milkshake!”

(Our parish is very diverse, almost like a small UN. I’m surprised that someone refused him, though.)

Me: “You said the Spanish ladies won’t let you have a milkshake?”

Kid: “Yeah!”

(He points to a table, where two Hispanic-looking women are standing, although they’re hard to spot as they’re somewhat behind a potted tree. They have a one-gallon milk jug at their table, several cups, and nothing else.)

Me: “What did they tell you?”

Kid: “They said I can’t have a milkshake until I’m twenty!”

(My pastor sits up at that. Our branch of Christianity doesn’t mind imbibing, but the pastor specifically asked for non-alcoholic drinks and food, as this is a family event.)

Pastor: “They said the milkshakes are only for grown-ups?”

Kid: “Yeah!”

(The pastor excused himself and headed over to a parish council member. After he spoke with her, the council member visited the two women. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but the council member was clearly furious, and the women looked humiliated. They quickly packed up and left. I later found out the kid had misheard “michelada,” a Mexican cocktail, as “milkshake.” The pastor didn’t shut down the potluck, but he did speak sternly at services the next weekend, reminding everyone about family versus adult events.)