We’re not drinkers in our house. We never have been. The only time I buy alcohol is around the holidays so that I can bake with it and apparently the rest does get used somehow.

I buy a bottle of rum for the rum cake and a bottle of creme de menthe for creme de menthe cake for our annual holiday party but there is always half a bottle left after I’ve finished baking so I put it up in the cupboard and just leave it there because I know Mom will take care of it.

She’s never been a drinker in any way, shape, or form. There was a time in her life where she was working in her florist shop and seem to be spending more time at the florist than home. In those days she would wind down her day with a little sprinkle of creme de menthe on her vanilla ice cream. Then it got to be where there was less ice cream and more creme de menthe and Dad began monitoring her. You see, we come from a background that they believed alcohol was a sin. It’s different now of course. A glass of wine or a beer can be just fine but we’ve all just not taken it up so the family tradition lives on.  But to my dad, especially back in the old days, felt that even a small glass was going to send you straight to the place where the sun doesn’t shine but you’ll need a strong sunscreen to make it through that imagined fiery put. Mom finally just stop having her creme de menthe on her ice cream because she just didn’t want to hear Dad gripe.

One year I had decided that after the rum cake was all gone that I would make a second one. I looked up in the cupboard and noticed that I didn’t have much rum OR creme de menthe left. Hmmmm…

The next day I checked the cupboard and some of the creme de menthe was gone. Hmmmm…

One night I was quietly sitting in the living room meditating with all the lights off and I hear a shuffle come down the hall. I remained as quiet as a mouse.
I see this little curly head walk by that is looking from side to side to see if anyone is up. She doesn’t notice me sitting in the chair. I don’t know how she didn’t notice because I was holding in the giggles but some were escaping.
She walked right over to the cupboard, pulled out the rum bottle, took a big ol’ swig, and then let out a ‘aaaaahhhhhhhh.’ She took one more gulp, wiped the top of the bottle with her arm,  and put it back in the cupboard.
I lost it. I got to laughing so hard and blew my cover.

“OH MY GOSH!!! BETHIE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING SITTING IN THE DARK? Are you spying on me?!!!”

I couldn’t breathe I was laughing so hard. I got out the words, “It’s our little secret.” And continued to laugh.

“OH! Your mom is so bad. Your mom is a LUSH.”  She put her hands over her face. At first I thought she was crying but on closer inspection she was laughing.
I came over to her and gave her a hug. She smelled of rum and her lilac perfume.
“Our little secret Mom.”

This happened years ago and every year on Christmas I make sure to buy a little extra rum and creme de menthe. I give her a bowl of ice cream and stick the bottle in front of her and Dad gives her ‘the look.’ She looks at me, looks at Dad, and then pours it all over her ice cream.