At 10 years old, my parents tried the Continental approach to teaching me and my siblings about alcohol. I remember it clearly . . . then not so clearly.
My parents gave me, my brother and my sister a glass of wine with our Sunday lunch. It tasted pretty disgusting. Corked, I'm sure. After the meal, we headed for the garden.
"Look at me, I'm drunk," I said, staggering across the lawn. We bumped into each other, faux-slurring, like we'd seen adults do when they'd had too much to drink. We didn't feel tipsy enough, though, so we spun around and around until we fell down.
My parents clocked this spectacle and ended the experiment, I couldn't look at white wine for a long time after that without feeling ill.
Source: Clint Witchalls, The Herald.ie, 18/04/2011
Safer Student Nights
eBulletin
Poll
