While reading an article last night about fathers and sons, memories came flooding back to the time I took my son out for his first pint.

Off we went to our local pub, just two blocks from the cottage.

I got him a Guinness. He didn't like it, so I drank it.
Then I got him a Kilkenny's. He didn't like that either, so I drank it.
I thought, 'perhaps some Harp Lager'? He didn't; so I drank it.
I thought maybe he'd like whiskey better than beer so we tried a Jameson's, nope!

In desperation, I had him try that rare one, Redbreast, Ireland's finest.
He wouldn't even smell it. So what could I do but drink it?

By the time I realized he just didn't like drink at all, I was so drunk I could hardly push his stroller back home.

As Mark Twain said "An Irishmans belly is lined with copper,give hm a pint of beer or stout + he'll be dead in a month......but give him whiskey + he will live forever.

some people's kids...