I’ve been thinking a lot about lost opportunities. Kind of like this bear cub here going into a liquor store—and heading for the CANDY.
I assure you, my fellow inebriates, if I ever get a chance to enter a liquor store, I will head for the single malt scotch.
This little bear cub could use a mentor.
The Halloween shopping happened today.
One black cat with sparkly ears and pink wig…Check.
One jeweled princess with spare doll-size outfit (guess who’s wearing it)…Check.
Two pumpkins sitting outside so they don’t rot before the big day…Check.
Six bags of Halloween candy…Not safe to buy it yet; my mum will devour it.
Pumpkin carving kit…OMG, pumpkin guts make me barf! I hate being near that stuff. What if they try and rope me into it? OMG!!
Vodka to make a Pumpkin Divine…Not yet…
After all that relentless shopping, could they not stop into the liquor store for some Grey Goose and triple sec, then find out where the hell Martha Stewart’s enemies might find pumpkin butter? (What the crap is that anyway??)…Oh hell, just vodka would have done. Somebody make one and tell me how it tastes! Meanwhile, I’ll make one here with…gin…and Malibu. Close enough.
My Fellow Inebriates,
One of my Facebook friends posted this on my wall:
The Internet is full of good ideas, as anyone who’s ever researched a possible medical condition will attest. There aren’t too many better ideas than this one.
As it happened, four-year-old Miss V had a whole bunch of gummy bears, and there was a mostly empty bottle of Bacardi Big Apple languishing in the liquor cabinet. Perfect preschool activity, wouldn’t you say?
But first I had to ask the gummy bears what they thought of the idea.
They were totally cool with it, although the white one kept falling down, which made me think it was drunk already.
Even as I warned them about the hazards, the white one wasn’t listening.
V and I helped them line up. Look at that yellow one getting pushy.
At the top, the gummy bear hesitated. So V ate it.
He who hesitates is lost. V nabbed this one as well. She didn’t really think we were going to let them drop.
Nor did my mother. This was totally an accident (the kind that happens when you prop a 2-cm gummy bear across a 3-cm hole).
“Daddy’s not going to like that!” said V.
“Sure he will,” said my mum.
By now the other gummy bears were frantic with excitement.
V got busy. “Mummy, what’s this drink called? Mummy, does LB like it? Does he want to drink it?”
They look so happy in there. That bottle’s been in our cupboard for almost four years, helping no one. Now it’s a party bottle.
Kinda reminds me of this other bottle.
Liquorstore Bear 