My Drinking Problem!

 I was very young when I developed a drinking problem. Around age 4!   I know you think that is impossible. It is too early, you say! Did I make some sort of a medical history?  Well what do you know; some people have had it even earlier. I am sorry to disappoint this early but I did not make it to the pages of the American Medical Journal.

My problems with the bottle started gradually.  In the beginning I would gladly put the bottle to my mouth as soon as it was offered.  I even looked forward to it. As I grew older they decided that drinking straight up from the bottle is not right. I should be sitting on the stool with a full glass in my hand.

That is when I started developing an aversion to drinking milk. I dropped the glass on the floor continuously. I threw tantrums. I screamed and shouted. I would make weird faces. Several times I poured my milk down the kitchen sink. Obviously when no one was watching! I was not a baby any more!  When all else failed I would ask to be bribed with a real chocolate. They offered chocolate milk instead. I countered with a firm “no”. I tell you kids that age are tough negotiators; very hard to out smart.

A life of crime however never pays. Eventually they caught on to my con. Now it was clear that I was not lactose intolerant. I was gobbling up other dairy products by the bucket load; nearly to the point of endangering the weekly grocery budget. It was just milk I ran away from. 

Milk is a great source of calcium, essential for healthy bones. Milk is also great for strong teeth, and it helps prevent tooth decay and cavities. Milk contains protein, which builds muscles. Vitamins A and B in milk helps build good eyesight. Milk can even prevent damage from environmental toxins because it has antioxidants. Young children need it while they are growing. Even adults should have it, and here I was rejecting it out right. This made our household intolerably tense like ‘clear and present danger’ rolled into ‘enemy at the gates’. 

A war council headed by my mother was formed.  They tried several stick and carrot strategies. I however defeated all of their maneuvers quite easily. With an imminent defeat looming large, writing for the war council was on the wall. They needed to recruit a hot shot external “General Eisenhower” to carry the day. As luck would have it my mom's great aunt decided to visit us from her village. It is not proven but rumor has it that my mom had something to do with it. 

“Maas”; aunt in the local lingo certainly had a name but I do not remember what it was. Everyone knew her as ‘Maas’; the lady with a bag of home remedies; instant worldly wisdom and an unending repertoire of stories. She lorded over her farm with an iron hand and was the undisputed repository of all family gossip. Aunt looked like a typical authoritative character that stepped out of a movie set. A little dusty, rough, tough and weather beaten, she was mostly dressed in her ankle length traditional gown that started life as deep red but was now faded brown. She also had an irradiated sap green one too.  

Aunt had no use for diplomacy. She was almost brutally direct; simple and honest. She went straight for the jugular and was not beyond using rough words. I was positive that she has been tasked to straighten me out. I was determined to see through her wily tricks and make her dance around my little finger. Only it did not happen that way. 

Aunt stayed with us for a couple of days. She talked a lot to my mom.  To be fair, she told me some really funny stories about that rascal of a dog she had. She told me about all the naughty things she did when she was a little child and how she fell into the well. She told me about her two big eyed twin cows at the farm; the fascinating kitty with ice blue eyes and the rooster called “king”. No word about drinking milk however escaped her lips. Not a squeak. Before she returned home, she invited us to visit her though. At the bus station she specially messed up my hair a little; repeated her invitation in my ears and told me about the surprise she has for me at the farm. Just for me!

I should have but I never suspected the speed at which this trip materialized. My mom who had a million objections to me attending a birthday party in the next street and a list of inviolable conditions as long as her arm for a sleepover at my cousin’s place was soon packing for a long stay at the farm. I heard two weeks. In reality, I was raring to go myself! I thought maybe I would get lucky and ask aunt to gift me a little kitten! Wouldn’t that be nice? No, I did not share my hopes with my mom. Adults never handle that kind of information too well you know! 

First morning at the farm house aunt woke me up a little early and asked,” do you want to see my twin cows?” “What a question? What is this old lady thinking? Of course I do”; I thought. Anyway I suppressed my feelings and just said “yes”. And there it was; two brown spotted cows hard to tell apart; munching away at their food in the cow shed. Besides them I could see an all white cute little baby cow too that was suckling. This was aunt’s secret surprise that she was telling me about. 

 Presently aunt sat down under one of the cows and started milking with her hands. I realized she had very stubby fingers and her thumbs looked as big as a chair leg. I was fascinated with the way milk was streaming into the bucket with a regular rhythm. Chuur; Churr! Churr; Churr! The sound drew me closer as if pulled by a magnet and aunt motioned for me to sit down. In a very matter of fact way aunt asked me to open my mouth and directed a stream of milk straight from the udders as I did so. I do not know if I was shocked, surprised or excited but this was a game I liked. That fresh, warm, sweet and frothy milk did not taste bad at all in my mouth either. I wanted more; and more!

We played this game twice everyday I was at the farm. I would have ordered a third round but they milked their cows only two times in a day. Of all the milk I have had in my entire life, most of it was had in those two exciting weeks. I entirely forgot asking about getting a kitty then, although I have a pale green eyed one now. 

I still hate drinking milk. That whitish liquid that you see me sipping occasionally gets poured out of a brown glass container with a screw top; bottled by the redoubtable Gilbeys of Ireland. I ordered a third round the other day and somehow it did not agree with my stomach next morning.

 Did I already tell you that we have to pay for our sins? So there I was regretting some of my choices with acid eating away at the linings of my stomach and who else but my dear wife appeared before my eyes. “Can I have Tums”? I asked. “No”. “Is there Gaviscon or Maalox in the house?”  “No”.  Funny; all these years and I never knew she was this reticent!

“Here, take this glass of milk”; she ordered a minute later. “Milk is a great natural anti acid”. Now you can safely say no to your mom but heaven help you if you ever say no to your wife! History of my entire life went through my mind in that instant and I vividly remembered the whole story about that great aunt you’ve read so far. As you might have guessed it, ‘Maas’ is not amongst us any more. “God bless her kind soul”, I thought, as I gritted my teeth and raised a toast in her memory. 

A glass of cold milk!