Kids: drunk

Saturday found eekbeat and Jordache and me at a local vineyard (co-blogger Ryan's, in fact) for a pig roast.

Not of the pig-eating ilk, I, sated on cole slaw sandwiches, was left to observe the masses as they milled about, chalices in-hand, taking in the music and sun and wine tastings. I was looking for drunk people.

See, I had it on good authority that some people might indulge themselves to such a degree that things (and perhaps, maybe, body parts) I wouldn't normally see would suddenly bear themselves to the light of a lovely Saturday afternoon. But lo, the strong pull of propriety prevented such depraved activity. Nary a stumble among the group.

But then! I espied the wee ones. The two-to-five-year-old set. And? Completely wasted.

They stumbled about with not a destination in mind. One kid quizzed a nearby traffic cone, no answer to be had. Another managed a few steps before falling on his rump, clearly hammered. Yet another: totally aimless wanderer. And that foppish lad pictured above? He fell asleep in that other kid's butt. Which I've seen drunk people do like a million times.

Yes. I put forth: kids are drunk all the time. Just watch. It's weird, but true. Mm hmm.