This evening the kiddos tried 2 drinks they’ve never tried before.
Hot tea and root beer floats.
This was a BIG deal. These kids, my kids, are so very wary of anything new . . . Philip can go into hyperventilating hysterics at the mere mention of something not previously on his radar. Brow furrowed, panting, he’ll exclaim, “I don’t like it!” without even knowing what it is. So the fact they put either concoction to their lips was a minor miracle.
It was also a bit of culture and herritage.
Fr. C. talks about this all the time and Jac was just schooling the kiddos on it tonight – this thought that meals are more than just food. They are a time of communion, community, and connecting. We know this is true, but how easily we forget.
So tonight the kids learned how to sip tea out of tiny cups. That Grandpa Raul brought back that tea set for Daddy (yes, daddy) when he went to visit Uncle Jason in Japan while he was stationed there for the USAF.
How is it possible they’ve never tried root beer floats? It’s a travesty! Their parents love them . . . what have we been waiting for?
They were getting jammies on while I made the floats and I got to thinking about my introduction to the delicacy. I couldn’t remember when it was because they’ve always been a part of my comfort food memories. In our house it was my dad who was the float master. So that’s where the heritage came in. The kids heard about how Papa Chris loves floats. How he made them for me and Uncle Billy. How he would get the foam dangerously high and teach us how to suck it off without touching the cups with our lips. How floats were nearly the only time we used silly straws because they were usually the only straws in the house and it made the floats that much more special.
And as we drank tea at dinner and floats for desert, our kids were imprinted with another part of who they are, where they’ve come from and what they’ll share.
Who knew a few drinks could do all of that?
