Braving the Baptist Convention

My teetotaling in-laws The Baptist Convention left this morning after a loooong long weekend visit.

Bless their hearts, but do you know how hard it is to enjoy what is supposed to be a long, restful holiday weekend without being able to unwind with a drink?

I honestly hope you don’t.

I get it.  I do.  In fact, we used to partially share their conviction. There was a time we preferred that my extended family not drink in front of our children unnnnntil we came to the realization that making anything taboo is sure to drive your kids straight to it.  As well as the realization that my family’s drinking was less drinking and more drunkenness.  On that premise, we decided it was probably better to drink in moderation in front of our kids so as to model responsible consumption.

We drink for our kids’ well-being.

We also worry pray that it won’t backfire.

I respect the convictions of others.  Each must decide for themself what is right and good.  I respect even more one’s ability to set judgment aside and be respectful of one another when convictions differ.

Such is not the case with the Baptist Convention.

I don’t think.

I say ‘ I don’t think’ not only because I’ve heard them say so but because I grew up got bold last year and offered my mother-in-law a glass of wine as we prepared dinner together and have had several glasses of wine in front of them since.  I have not yet been disowned.  However, if one’s soul can be saved by the prayers of another, I’m undoubtedly secure.

They didn’t raise me, so my failures are not theirs.

Spin is a chicken another story.

Oh, I kid.  He’s supportive of my decision to ruin my own reputation drink wine in front of them, but respecting his parents is important to him and that’s admirable.

Even more admirable?

His stealth and bravery to mix up and consume a batch of Table Dancers right under their noses last night.

I have never actually peed my pants from laughing so hard, but last night, let’s just say I was grateful for pantyliners.

Whether it’s their age, their absorption with Facebook and Hearts on the iPad or their naivety to how not perfect their son really is, they somehow missed Spin accessing the liquor cabinet above the refrigerator in straight-on full view, not ten feet in front of them.  (My guess is the latter.)

It was the most tolerable best part of their visit.

What will likely forever remain unknown is what would actually happen if Spin drank openly in front of them.  I don’t know if potentially really disappointing or offending them is worth risking it to find out.  We reason that if alcohol is so important to us that we can’t set it aside to avoid being offensive, we may well have a drinking problem.

In which case, my own path to destruction has clearly been paved.