Turning 21 in America is a rite of passage. It means you are now legally able to order, consume and purchase alcohol. It means you get a new driver’s license that proclaims that fact. It means you have joined the adult community at large. It scares the hell out of many parents (my husband included) and rightfully so because you now worry about your kid drinking and driving. You worry about this a lot.
So, with two designated drivers at her side, my eldest ordered her first legal drink at Oscar’s Oysters in downtown Colorado (nice food, great bar atmosphere by the way) – a cosmopolitan.
We had a great party, ate great seafood, made speeches (wait, that was just me), and had pie without candles because Liz prefers pie and the wind was simply not cooperating. We had glow necklaces, which make it easier for your designated drivers to keep an eye on you (I learned that trick at my own bachelorette party, where I had to wear a white feather boa).
Then, the birthday girl’s aunt gave her some strict guidelines for safe alcohol consumption. That or more likely a list of the best drinks on the planet – she’s a savvy ex bartender. I stayed out of the discussion. I thought that appropriate.
… and this morning?
She woke fresh and bright as a daisy. Had a huge sandwich and more water and went back to bed.
I swear, it’s so unfair.
P.S. I’m proud of you, my girls.