Grownup Drinks
Olive has an interesting relationship with Kids' Coffee1: she wants to like it, but even prepared as it is, she very often just is not into the taste. She knows that Christina drinks coffee regularly, and I have it on special occasions, so clearly it's something to aspire to; even so, she just can't get past the taste.
Still, this has been one of the surprises of parenthood, for me: I honestly expected it to be much harder than it actually is to make her understand that some things are just for adults. Somehow, in my imagination, she'd be indignantly insisting that she's close enough to adult, and she should be able to try whatever it is that we have. In actuality, she's very understanding that some things, she's just not ready for.
Very likely, this stems from the fact that she's still 3, not 13. Still, another factor may just be that she knows that when there's some wiggle room, we try to let her try things. For example, I drink Coke Zero pretty frequently2. When Olive spots this, she'll often ask me: "Can I have a finger?" She's referring to our custom with caffienated drinks: she can try the flavor by dipping her finger into my cup, precisely once, then licking it.
Yesterday, based on a recommendation from some friends, we visited an American Grocery: for an outrageous markup, you can get real authentic shelf-stable food from the USA3. One of the treats we picked up there was a 12-pack of cans of A&W Root Beer4.
Germans, as a rule, don't enjoy root beer. To the German mind, the flavor is instantly recognizable as "American", but it's not actually enjoyable, per se. It's just kind of endurable. Knowing this, Christina thought it would be too bad if Olive didn't have the opportunity to learn to enjoy it from a young age; it's part of her American heritage, so of course she should be acculturated in it!
Tonight at supper, Christina opened a (non-alcoholic) beer for herself: we were having Mexican food, and the flavors mesh nicely. Seeing this, Olive had a polite request: "Could I have a Kids' Beer, please?" We hastened to explain that it's called root beer, but the her wording wasn't a problem; she and I shared a can.
Turns out: Olive loves root beer.
Decaf coffee mixed with lots of milk and a bit of caramel syrup.
Honestly, probably more than I should.
It's very much an indulgence, but it's also true that before yesterday, it had been literally years since I'd had a bag of Cheetos.
Another thing we picked up was chewing gum: we'd told Olive that she could pick out a special treat for herself, and that was what she wanted. She enjoys chewing it, but she really hasn't internalized the notion that she's not supposed to eat it when it's done. Today, she requested a piece, and we gave it to her. After half an hour or so, we asked: "Do you still have the chewing gum? Do you want to throw it away now?" She opened her mouth wide as if to show it to us, but her mouth was empty. She insisted she hadn't swallowed it, so of course we asked her where she'd put it. Her answer: "I put it in my belly!"