The other evening my family and I went to have shabbat dinner with their cousins. As with most large families, there was a separate kids’ table. Before the adults went to the dining room where we would be sitting, I made sure my son’s spot had the correct noodles- plain, no butter, just salt. In fact, I showed him his exact spot since his sisters had similar looking pasta, with butter. While I was looking after my crew, my step brother was configuring something in the same room.
After I sat down to eat and took from three dishes, my son comes running in. “Mom!! There’s something wrong with that Apple Juice!”
Remembering that Uncle G. had been tinkering where the children were eating and knowing that he drinks Jack Daniels- a similar color to apple juice, I said, “Let me smell your breath!”
Sure enough, my son drank a shot. The upside to all this was that he wasn’t cold walking to the car in a t-shirt when we left their house late that evening.