It's an interesting phenomenon when your parents suddenly realize that youve exceeded their tolerance level. Whether it's family vacation, a wedding, or even just an unevenly shared six pack...there's always a time of recognition that your child has either matched or exceeded your a) drunken-ness or b) tolerance (in which case, this realization comes when you drop out of the game and your offspring is still going strong). For me, this was tonight. After fixing a (classy) batch of Sutter Home sangria with a lovely grocery-quality Moscato (hand picked my mama) and produce-stand peaches and strawberries, we had ourselves a nice post-dinner pitcher to do work on. My mom, a self-proclaimed "teetotaler," and my dad, who suffers from sever Asian glow, each had a glass...leaving me to do the rest. Currently, I am nursing the final solo cup of my well-marinated sangria to the sweet chorus of mosquitos and the lady watering the hotel's flower beds while my parents are sleeping inside. I guess we'll call it a coming of age.
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