Drink! Drink!

So far, I've been nursing or pregnant for 63% of my legal drinking years.  Legal to drink for 20.75 years, abstaining for a total of 13 years so far.  So I guess you could say that I don't really drink.  This extended caffeine free tea totalling has forced me, I guess, to find other coping machanisms, all the while really wanting a drink.  Well, maybe not ALL the while, but I could have written a bartending book with drink recipes named after incidents like this:

My first reaction to this was, "Charlie?  What is that and why is your forehead breaking out in a rash from it?!" 

Oh.  Syrup.  And the dog's ears are covered with a syrup shellac from standing under the sticky cascades from the countertop. Somehow, Charlie's left ear was full of syrup.  Baths for Charlie, Zero, and Pooh Bear; floor mopped, counter triple scrubbed, stools washed, switch syrups to a brand that doesn't cause a rash on contact... 

I'm thinking of a strong coffee drink with maple liqueur.

This one ...

... calls for a strong backyard still whiskey with grenadine and a cherry.  Something to put hair on your chest, offsetting the bald patch on the back of the head.  The sweet smile (cherry) almost, but not at all, masks the pile of hair on the counter.

This one would have really made me crave a Kahlua Peanut Butter Cocktail, if I'd ever had one:

It was about the fourth time I'd caught Charlie scuba diving in the peanut butter.  It was the first time I got to him before it was up to his elbows and down the entire length of his clothes.
It all works out for the best.  My kids are safe from finding my whiskey bottles in the bushes, the floor gets mopped, and the dog gets an occasional bath.  It's all good.