Lunchtime Pint

The other Sunday, my wife and youngest daughter went to a beach safari. The eldest, eight, refused to go. That, by extension, also gave me a reprieve. She'd been to a safari at Salthill beach a few weeks before and it was rainy and windy that day. She'd been miserable. The fact that the weather was fair today was neither here nor there as far as she was concerned. Her mind was made up.

"So what should we do?" she asked me, batting the ball firmly onto my side of the court.
I racked my brains. "How about we go for a pint?", I found myself asking.
"Yes please, Daddy", she said excitedly. "Can we?".

I'd only been joking really. That's just my general fallback suggestion.

"Well ... I suppose we could", I ventured, looking at my watch. It was just after midday.
"YAYYYYYYY", she shouted. "Can I put a dress on?", she asked, already half way up the stairs.

Ok, a pint it is I thought. What a brilliant idea. And very civilised too. What could be more normal than a lunchtime Sunday pint with your Darling Daughter. Nothing, nothing at all, I told myself. She can take a book, I'll get a paper and we'll sit on the comfy sofas and just chill. GENIUS!

"We're walking down to the village by the way", I shouted up the stairs.

A lunchtime pint and exercise. Double GENIUS!

So we walked to the village hand in hand at one with nature. She'd been grumpy about the beach safari earlier but this pint idea of mine had put her in fine form. We stopped for a paper and then proceeded to the pub. I ordered a pint of cloudy German sipping lager and she asked for a soda water and lime. She got to pour her own lime and she helped herself to a very large one indeed. She also got a tube of salt and vinegar Pringles.

We sat down on the sofa and I took a sip of my sipping lager. I looked at her and smiled noticing that she'd already downed half her drink. She was munching the crisps and was happy. I picked up the Sports section and glanced back at her. Now the entire drink was gone and she was pouring the last of the Pringles into her mouth.

"Is this a race?", I asked?
"Huh?"
"Nothing. Are you ok?". "Why not read your book?", I suggested.
"Aren't you having another pint?", she asked.
"Well I've only just sipped ... would you like another?" I asked.
"Yes please", she replied. "And more Pringles…".

She came up to the bar with me and did the lime pouring again. When we got back I told her to chill out, enjoy her book and not rush.

"No more speed eating", I cautioned, holding up a finger to signify that I kind of meant business.
"Fine", she replied before proceeding to drink and eat exclusively for the next five minutes. By which time the second round was consumed.
"Can we go now?", she asked. "You're taking ages with your pint".

As we left I found myself reconsidering the genius of my cunning pint plan. (It had, at the very least, been demoted to lower case and had the exclamation mark removed.) In theory, yes, the idea did border on the brilliant. In practise, however, I must inform you that lunchtime pints as an activity for kids is, let's just say, a little ahead of it's time.