Sweet sixteen affords you beer. When you're 18 you can have the hard stuff.
So we spent the day yesterday in Luxembourg. Having a relaxing day, until I saw these babies being served beer. Is it possible that these youngsters are sixteen years of age??? Something was oh-so wrong about seeing the group of them sitting so comfortably at the bar and downing beers (you can see the huge contraption they ordered in one of the photos - yes folks, that is their own personal keg..)...
My husband practically had to hold me down to prevent me from walking my little infertile self, not only to the barman, but to those youngsters to ask them if their parents knew where they were.
Then I thought about this new adventure I've embarked upon (this blog), and asked myself if this was really about my deep-seated need to be a mother? Am I trying to raise other people's kids?
If something is given easily, is it easy to not appreciate it, take it for granted, or perhaps go so far as to neglect it? It's something I'll be thinking about.
P.S. A weird thing happened after we left. An employee from the bar/restaurant (we're thinking the manager) met us at the other end of a tunnel as we were exiting (meaning he had to run ahead from an outside area to cut us off). He asked if I had taken pictures. I lied.
For what seemed like an eternity, I did reflect on how to respond before the lie came out of my mouth, but hey, he was muscular and I was trying to avoid conflict. But as I walked away, I couldn't help but think his actions reflected culpability....
More kiddie pics after the jump...
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