From the series: Life on Dog Hill
It’s not uncommon for my husband and me to enjoy a cold beer on the back deck. After all, the weather this time of year is darn near perfect. It’s also not the least bit unusual for us to ask our son to fetch us another.
“What do you want? he’ll ask. “Pilsner, IPA, hefe?”
That boy really knows his beer! Oh, and did I mention? He’s only ten.
Which reminds me of a funny story from when he was in second grade and I received an email from his teacher. I’ve saved it all these years because it humored me so.
Yesterday we started planning our town and the kids were all suggesting different businesses for our city. Your dear sweet child suggested we needed a bar – with an impish grin on his face. Needless to say, I told him he was a sweet seven year old boy who could not have a bar in his town.
What can I say? He’s a bright kid!
And, if he grows up to own a bar… well, as long as he’s the best bartender he can possibly be, then who am I to complain?
Image found here.