Bavaria, Land of Drunk Babies

Posted on
Aug 27, 2013
Posted in: Random Musings

My father lives in a rural part of Bavaria, surrounded by farmland. The air is rich with the smell of cows and manure, and traffic jams are caused by tractors. Should you think I am being hyperbolic on that last point:

THERE IS FARM EQUIPMENT IN BOTH LANES. It’s basically Kansas, people.

After France, we went to visit him. My brother, sister-in-law, and wee nephew joined us. There’s nothing within walking distance of my dad’s place, except for a small Greek restaurant, so we went there and ate pizza and kabobs outside.

Summer in Bavaria = jeans and fleeces

The little one wanted to try everyone’s drinks. First, there was fizzy water.

He’s totally game.

His reaction:


Then there was beer. Before you start lecturing me over the negative effects of giving beer to children, let me state a few things:

  1. This is Europe. Even the juice boxes have alcohol in them. 
  2. My brother and I grew up having sips of beer or wine now and then, and we turned out just fine except for the fact that we’re both jobless and also, I had a brain tumor.
  3. There is no point three.
  4. Mind ya business.

Here’s the wee on taking a sip of what might be booze (#plausibledeniability):

Aaaand his reaction:

“Hey, that’s kinda nice. Was it that, an IPA?”

And this …


“Dude, I’m pretty sure that’s mine.”

Later, he passed out on his mother. He’s a sloppy drunk.*

*He also, apparently, peed his pants.


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