With all the information available on child-rearing these days, there are very few surprises left. There is a whole line of books that tell us What To Expect, and where that leaves off the Girlfriends promise to Guide us, and then there’s the you, the Internet, who have no fear of treading where even the Girlfriends fear to go.
But even with all that advice out there at my figuretips, nothing prepared me for the moment when I felt the strange mix of Pride and Horror that came when my darling little 3 year old, while attending her first grown-up event, unerringly sauntered up the punchbowl, helped herself to a champagne glass (No Internet, I did not say a glass of champagne, I said a champagne glass) took it expertly by the stem, and threw back a healthy helping of punch like she was born to it. Baby knows how to handle a cocktail glass. Don’t mess with Baby.
I smiled sheepishly to the other adults standing close by. “We watch a lot of Bewitched” I told them.