Some friends live on a block in Noe Valley (an upscale neighborhood in San Francisco) and hold an annual 4th of July block party. The date roughly coincides with the birthday of their son, so they invited a bunch of friends to join them. This year we made the cut.
The street was blocked off so it was safe for kids to play. Dozens of them ran, skated, and scooted all afternoon. There was also a big bounce house, a water balloon fight, and a kid-friendly rock band called Playdate that was fronted by the birthday kid's mom. I roamed outside for hours, chatting with other parents, grooving to the tunes, and soaking up the surprise sunshine.
I marvelled at how Norman Rockwell the whole scene was (assuming that Norman liked to rock) until Daisy burst the wholesomeness bubble.
"I'm the bartender!" she announced, stationing herself in the garage, behind the table of appetizers and booze. Several other six year olds joined her, to form the cutest and most illegal bartending crew you've ever seen.
Mostly they poured water, but soon their skills escalated. After a while they mastered the bottle opener, but I really didn't begin to worry until Daisy politely approached me and asked, "Dad, you like tequila, don't you?"
"Well, yeah, but not now."
"We got a bottle. You like tequila! I'll get you some!"
"It's ok, sweetie. I really don't want any tequila."
"Are you sure? We've got tequila. You like it!"
I assured her that I was not interested in doing tequila shots, and she eventually gave up. Other parents looked at me with facial expressions that were half bemused and half aghast. "She's a bit of an enabler," I explained.
Daisy went back into the garage, but soon reemerged with bottles of Corona in each hand. They were professionally garnished with slices of lime. She and her bartending crew then began going from person to person, offering their refreshments. The party host looked on nervously. "Oh, ha ha, I hope there are no police around," he muttered.
"The police can't stop this sort of thing. They might shut down this garage speakeasy, but these kids will just open their operation in some other garage. You know how kids are." I explained.
He nodded knowningly.
Although no one got busted, I guess it wasn't quite the wholesome 4th of July it could have been. We did go see fireworks though! It was blustery. Welcome to summer in San Francisco.
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6 comments:
Hey, I hear there's good money in bartending. At least you know that someday Daisy will be able to find a job she likes.
She's got to learn to charge for the beers though. Instead, she was just collecting the bottle caps for her new bottle cap collection. THAT should be fun explaining to other members of our family.
Man, good thing Daisy was there to cut the wholesomeness. I could've used her on my 4th -- we were at Ardenwood Historic Farm enjoying potato sack races, bucket brigades, hay rides, and a watermelon seed-spitting contest. I nearly crapped one of those "Don't Tread On Me" flags (such an excellent joke, I had to steal it). Perhaps Daisy and I could've setup a still and brewed some John Barleycorn.
Larry! Your 4th outwholesomed my 4th! Perhaps we should have a ol' fashioned wholesomeness-off. Best crapped flag wins.
Well, I didn't crap a flag or any other displays of patriotism, but I think MY 4th out-wholesomed you both. Ours is "nationally ranked!"
Carey, first off, there was way too much booze in yours for it to be very wholesome. Second, I'm a "nationally ranked" Scrabble player, but it doesn't mean I'm very good. I'm ranked near the bottom.
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