the gummy bear that almost killed me

I used to love gummy bears.

My husband is already cringing at the title of this post. “Let it go!” he is screaming in his head as he reads these words on his screen at the office. But in true Molly fashion, I have yet to let “it” go. I am cringing, too, you see, after my ridiculous move at yesterday’s Bears game. So to this online confessional I go, to air my flub up for all to read.

Before the game, we tailgated with the kids. It was their first game and we wanted them to experience it in full Bear Fan foolery, so we set up camp and cooked and tossed the football around. They loved it and all the very animated creatures that surrounded us. This was a far cry from our younger days at past Bears games when the kids were not along. I went into it planning not to have even one beer, but I did catch the spirit and crack one open. The guys were already at it and I figured one wouldn’t hurt. I just wanted to be at 100% since I would be pulling precious cargo through the land of crazies.

With a few sips, I started to relax a bit, realizing we were pretty secure, crammed in at the end of the parking lot next to a row of semi trailers. Most of the nutball partiers were pretty far away and the people around us weren’t too out of hand. In walks the gummy bear.

I must have slipped back about twenty years with those few sips of beer, because I lost all inhibition as this completely normal girl came up and offered us vodka-soaked gummy bears. Uncle Dan said yes, and I didn’t even skip a beat – I said yes, too!  And I ate it. In front of my kids. A vodka-soaked gummy bear from a total stranger. I’m not exaggerating when I say that this has to be the worst decision I’ve ever made in my life.

Reality hit fast. I was worried about exposing my kids to unsavory characters at the game, but the unsavory character was me! I immediately flashed forward to future tailgates and underage parties where my children accept any mystery food or drink from strangers because they witnessed THEIR MOTHER do the same. I imagined this tale being retold in therapy years later. I could almost hear the normal family across the aisle discussing my parental indiscretion. I was also sure this nice, normal girl had actually laced the gummy bear with poisonous drugs. (It didn’t help that Uncle Dan planted that seed.) I chugged a bottle of water, then a diet Pepsi and handed off my half-drunk beer.  All the while, Mike and Dan laughed at me, told me to calm down and not make such a big deal out of it. I did calm down, but not after hours of mentally raking myself over the coals. (I’m still doing it, can’t you tell?)

Could I be any more uncool? Everything is fine and I am still sitting here worried that I’ve scarred them for life. I guess I’ve done that in other less obvious ways, though. Haven’t we all? Sometimes it’s a bummer to be human.

By the way, if you’re ever offered a gummy bear soaked in Vodka, skip it. Take it from me, it tastes like S&%T!

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