Mama don't preach

Grayer and I got drunk emailed this weekend. And no, it wasn't from an ex or a friend having a good time. It was from our mother.

Our parents don't drink. At all. It's not like they have a glass of wine at dinner or have a cocktail every now and again, but never get drunk. They never drink. Period. If someone gives them a bottle of wine as a gift, they will wait until we come home for Christmas to open it. Before we were of drinking age, bottles of wine would remain in the cupboard for years, just going to waste. Therefore, they are completely clueless about all things alcoholic. A few years ago, after a trip to Curacao, famous for their rum, they thought they would be super-cool and send me and Grayer some rum-filled care packages. While Grayer got some delicious flavors, I received a bottle of rum raisin rum, because as my mom said, "you like raisins." Thank you mother, but just because I tolerate raisins in trail mix, oatmeal cookies, and bagels doesn't mean that I'm passionate about raisins (who is?) and want a raisin flavored adult beverage.

The alcohol ban isn't because of a religious belief or anything. They just don't like alcohol. Unless it comes in the form of a sugary, sweet concoction, which brings us back to the drunken email. My parents are yet again on a Caribbean vacation. They have been known to order fancy drinks on these types of trips, but they are usually of the virgin variety, and seriously, is there anything more lame than a virgin daiquiri? This time, however, they (or at least mom) isn't skipping out on the alcohol. The main topic of the email was what cocktails she had yesterday. And she didn't call them drinks, or cocktails, or even booze (which is what she usually does, a vocabulary preference that has always baffled Grayer and me). No, she called them "My drinkie-poos." Drinkie-poos! Then she rated each of her "drinkie-poos" on a scale from "OK" to "yummy." 3 out of the 4 drinks received a "yummy" rating. I had to read it twice before I said out loud, "Holy shit, Batman! My mother is smashed!"

I quickly contacted Grayer, who not only agreed with me, but had already responded by telling her she sounded wasted. I mean, this is a woman who doesn't drink at all. One mixed drink would leave her completely hammered, but 3 in one day? Yes, the woman is blitzed.

At least, I hope she is. Because if there is anything more pathetic than a woman in her mid-50s getting drunk from a fruity tropical drink, it's a woman in her mid-50s not getting drunk from virgin daiquiris, then using the word "drinkie-poos" in an email to her adult children while completely sober.

Either way, she has just received a new family nickname: Boozer.