This story is one of my favorite stories of my childhood. It's funny because the four-year-old me was so innocent and my dad and aunt were oblivious to what I was doing. But first thing's first: please drink responsibly. I do not condone or encourage underage drinking. Alright, onto the story.

So when I was four-years-old, my parents and my aunt went out to dinner, and they took my sister who wasn't even a year old yet and me with them. Everything was going great. My parents ordered drinks and they got me water or juice, I don't remember. After they ordered their drinks, my mom got up to go to the ladies' room to change my sister's diaper. I decided to stay at the table with my dad and my aunt.

Since they were in the middle of a conversation, I sat there quietly, waiting for my mom to come back. I colored in my coloring book. I took the crayons out and placed them side-by-side, making sure that none of them would roll over. I didn't interrupt their conversation. I just listened and colored. My mom would call me her "little sponge" because I never really talked, I just absorbed the information.

A little time passed and the waiter came back to the table with everyone's drinks. He set them down and asked if we were ready to order. Seeing that my mom had yet to come back to the table, my dad said we needed a few more minutes. The waiter nodded and left.

Thirsty, I drank some of my beverage. Not satisfied with it, I looked around the table for something else I could drink. Thinking my mom's drink looked like lemonade, I reached for it and took a sip. Clearly enjoying it, I drank some more. My dad and my aunt were so deep in their conversation that they paid no attention to me. When I decided I had enough, I put her drink back and went back to coloring.

A few minutes after that, my mom came back with my sister. She put my sister in her high-chair and sat down next to me. Seeing that the drinks were brought to the table she reached for her margarita, except something looked fishy. A quarter of her drink was missing. She asked my dad if he took some and he said no. She asked my aunt if she took some and she also said no. She said that my mom was crazy because no one had touched her drink.

Except, at that moment, I started hiccuping and giggling. I would have gotten away with it if the alcohol didn't affect me so quickly. But then again, I was four-years-old and never before had a sip of anything alcoholic. My mom looked at me and asked if I had taken some, and I replied, "I try it. I try it."

My mom started laughing because I was just all smiles. My dad asked why she was laughing and she told him that I was the one who drank it because I wanted to try her drink. He looked at me smiling because he never expected me to do that and because he didn't even see me do it. My aunt and my mom just laughed at me because I was all smiles for the rest of the night.

Growing up, my parents didn't hide the alcohol from my sister and me. They didn't say no to us if we asked to try a sip of it. Rather they let us have a sip because they thought it would be better for us to get that itch scratched rather than for us to keep thinking about it and then go out and binge drink underage. I think it's better that way because once we try the drink, our curiosity is gone. There's no more wonder to it.