You're just as cool as you think you are. Keep on drinking and you'll be even coooooler.
Admit it. You want to be a teenager again. It’s not the loose-fitting clothing. It’s not the brazenly hip banter or the meaningful grunts that translate into intelligent conversation among peers. It’s not even the prospect of rolling naked in a field or in the backseat of a Malibu with a relative stranger.
No, it’s none of these things. You simply want to be cool again.
And the only way to feel cool again—and be accepted in the pantheon of coolness—is to get wasted with your teenager and his friends. There are those who will call the idea preposterous, and there are laws on the books in many (OK, all) jurisdictions that prohibit drug- and alcohol-related indiscretions when it comes to juveniles. But the law is for old sober people, and the law has no regard for an adult’s desire to relive the misguided, drunken rush of picking a fight with two security guards at a ZZ Top concert or earnestly discussing, until 3 in the morning, how outrageously good funnel cake is.
So some of you might be asking, “Dude, why don’t you just get wasted with your old-ass friends and leave the teenagers alone?” This is complicated. You see, somehow, some way, the act of getting wasted with your friends loses its coolness around the age of 31.
Going beer for beer with your kid is hard. You should try anyway.
This is mainly because once you find yourself wasted, nothing terribly good happens except going to bed feeling bloated and blotchy. You actually want to clean up the disgusting things in the sink. Whereas when you’re a teenager, you get wasted and never consider the sink. Indeed, the sink is merely an abstract conduit of utility.
This is the difference, and it is a revelation. And the revelation is only cool if you follow up on it.
This Is About You, Not Them
Moralists will say getting wasted with your teenager is wrongheaded. But moralists often forget that your teenager is much cooler than you. By joining them in their underage binge drinking and rampant pot-smoking, you’re simply saying, “Hey, I’m into making bad decisions, too—only mine are much worse than yours because I have a minivan, a mortgage and a 401(k).”
Which means that if getting wasted as a teenager is cool, getting wasted when the stakes are infinitely higher is even cooler. Besides, wouldn’t you rather have them getting wasted at your house (instead of with one of their friend’s parents)?
Rule #66: Ban Kids From Your Lawn
Rule #65: Put Your Kid in Timeout at an Orphanage
Rule #64: Send Your Kid to Mafia Training Camp
Rule #63: Lie to Your Child About How Important You Are
Rule #62: Tattoo Your Kids With Reckless Abandon
Rule #61: Discourage Most Forms of Reading
Rule #60: Pack Smokes in Your Child’s Lunch
Rule #59: Vacation in a Third World Country
Rule #58: Admit Your Baby Isn’t Cute
Rule #57: Pick Up Chicks With Your Kid
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the last sentence is a total clincher. great blog.
Taking this drinking advice one baby-step at a time…
My 3-year-old daughter loves drinking from a mug and thinks everything that comes out of said mug is “coffee.” She also thinks every brownish beverage is “coffee.” Hence, when we’re out a restaurant and she asks me, “Mommy, can I have a sip of your coffee,” more than a few eyebrows of nearby patrons are raised. “How DARE she give her child coffee?” they gasp. “It will stunt her growth.” “How irresponsible!!!” But damn if my kid doesn’t love me! Next step, beer mugs–perhaps for her 5th birthday.
I agree with Donna. People gotta relax. I often joke with my 6-yr-old about going out for a coffee or a pint. He knows there’s no bloody way in hell that’s going to happen, but we have a good laugh. “Dad, I’m not a grown up, you silly head!”
Is it bad that my parents used me as a beer fetching machine when I was young? I mean, I was also used as the TV remote control (“Jump up and change the channel to Dean Martin for me honey”) and the Caller ID (“Sweetie, grab the phone and find out who it is for me. . .”) and the answering machine (“. . and if it’s Mrs. Robins down the street just take a message for me and I’ll call her back later”) so at age 8 the phrase “Go grab me a beer, punkin” was a natural progression for me. It took only a few weeks to see that this job, however, didn’t suck as much as the others. Why they never questioned that their drinks were always half empty by the time the beer arrived in their hands I’ll never know. So, in a way, yeah – I’ve been drinking with my parents for a really long time. Good Rule.
no its not bad i trained my godson to fetch beer from the fridge, he hasnt learned their names yet just colors but a little more training and he will be able to make the perfect martini on request, and now that i think about it my beer is always a little light… little scamp he earned a lollipop.