Bavaria, Land of Drunk Babies
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:
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![](http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3799/9212890308_d6c0f4df8f_z.jpg)
THERE IS FARM EQUIPMENT IN BOTH LANES. It’s basically Kansas, people.
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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.
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Summer in Bavaria = jeans and fleeces
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The little one wanted to try everyone’s drinks. First, there was fizzy water.
![](http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2871/9210098733_b4101f04c0_z.jpg)
He’s totally game.
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His reaction:
![](http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2839/9210098135_c59fce1db2_z.jpg)
“DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN WHAT ARE YOU BASTARDS FEEDING ME?” said the baby.
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Then there was beer. Before you start lecturing me over the negative effects of giving beer to children, let me state a few things:
- This is Europe. Even the juice boxes have alcohol in them.
- 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.
- There is no point three.
- Mind ya business.
Here’s the wee on taking a sip of what might be booze (#plausibledeniability):
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Aaaand his reaction:
![](http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5532/9212879598_c4991ca7ee_z.jpg)
“Hey, that’s kinda nice. Was it that, an IPA?”
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And this …
![](http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2809/9212879178_c1c3e8f225_z.jpg)
“Dude, I’m pretty sure that’s mine.”
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Later, he passed out on his mother. He’s a sloppy drunk.*
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*He also, apparently, peed his pants.
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