While reading an article last night about fathers and sons, memories came flooding back to the time I took me son out for his first pint. 

Off we went to our local pub only two blocks from our house. I got him a Guinness. He didn’t like it, so I drank it.

Then I got him a Kilkenny’s; he didn’t like that either, so I drank it.

Finally, I thought he might like some Harp Lager? He didn’t. So I drank it too.

 I thought maybe he’d like whiskey better than beer, so we tried a Jameson’s; nope!

In desperation, I had him try Ireland’s finest, that rare Redbreast.

He wouldn’t even smell it. What could I do but drink it!

By the time I realized he just didn’t like to drink, I was so shit-faced, I could hardly push his stroller back home.