This past Saturday was the day Her Royal Highness, Princess Meghan turned 21. And she turned it with her usual high maintenance flair. Drinking hasn't been a huge priorty in Her Highness' life thus far, so she doesn't have a favorite drink. But there are some things that are known already. She doesn't like beer, likes champagne (duh!), wants to enjoy her day, wants to remember her day, doesn't want to get sick.
She spent a great deal of the day fretting over what she was going to drink for her 21st birthday. I do believe more thought was put into that than into chosing her prom dresses, and she tried on A LOT of dresses. She was getting quite annoying with this "what should I drink" thing.
I hosted a family brunch Saturday morning. While we were putting the last touches on it, she quizzed my older daughter and me, listing the drinks she had under consideration; chocolate martini, amaretto sour, something else, something else, something else (I was busy cooking). She said, "I want to have something cute, but I'm afraid I'll get something I won't like and I'll be stuck with it."
Yes, she actually said she wanted to drink "something cute."
I pointed out that she always likes my chocolate martinis that she sneaks sips of at our favorite restaurant.
Her dad arrived and she went in to quiz him; rattling off to him her list of possible drinks. Then she asked him what he drank when he turned 21.
Her brother-in-law returned from a trip to the store and she went through the list with him and asked his opinion.
She turned up her royal little nose at that and continued her kvetching about it.
Following brunch and a successful gift harvest, she and her friends headed off to Anheuser-Busch Brewery for a tour and the free beer they give at the end of it. Yeah, that part didn't make sense to me either, what with her dislike for beer, but whatever.
I met the Princess, her friends and Jenni and Tim at our favorite restaurant for dinner that night, getting there some time before the others. I got a table for us on the patio which was lit up with twinkly lights. I explained to the waitress there was a birthday and made arrangements for a special dessert for her; and then ordered my chocolate martini.
When HRH PM got there, I warned her that the chocolate martinis that night weren't their best. She went back to agonizing over her choices and started to consider starting out with a rum drink and switching later to margueritas at the club where they were going after dinner.
I reached for my cellphone and called information, asking for the number of a college friend. At the mention of his name, both of my daughters were quite surprised. Meghan's comment was "this is random; what's going on?"
I haven't spoken to Doc and Anne in years, but decided this was the time to "phone a friend." I quickly explained to a very surprised Anne the reason for my call. Doc came on the line, floored that little Meghan was 21. I asked him to tell her the advice that had been given to him by Meghan's paternal grandfather one visit long ago in Chicago. Doc claims he heard what my father-in-law said, but did not immediately obey. He relates that after a few missteps, he learned his lesson and that it was an imporant one.
"Never mix your drinks," he told her. "Don't mix anything with sweet drinks. If you start out with something, stick with it or you'll get sick."
Then he apparently told her some stuff about college days, her dad and I because her jaw dropped and then she started to laugh hysterically.
They chatted a little more, then she hung up and made her decision.
Cranberry juice, Fresca and vodka. The waitress told her they don't have Fresca. At that point, I dropped my head to the table and banged it a couple of times. I sat up and told the waitress that it took all day to come up with that drink order. She quickly said Sprite was available, and Meghan went with that.
When the drink arrived, she sipped it, we held our collective breaths, and she then decreed it was acceptable to the royal palette.
Following dinner, the "kids" went to The Big Bang on Laclede's Landing in St. Louis; a place I introduced to Jenni and Tim. To call it a piano bar makes sound more genteel than it is. They have dueling pianos and the music lasts until 3:00 a.m. They did NOT invite me! But as it is traditional for those celebrating birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, etc. to go up on stage for harrassment, it was probably good that I didn't go.
The next day, Meghan told me she did drink a few shots, or Tuters, as they are called there. She said one was a Bloody N!pple. At the look of horror on my face, she said "Wait...that's not right." She thought and then said, "It was a Buttery N!pple." I explained to her the importance of getting the names correct; and we also had a discussion on responsibility. She did pretend to listen. She's been the Designated Driver for her sorority and after having taken care of drunk and sick sorority sisters, said she doesn't care to get like that.
The reports were that she did not get sick, did not get drunk and made it to church the next morning. Since her sister and brother-in-law were with her and WOULD tell me the truth, I'll believe it.
Now I just have to find out exactly what it was that Doc told her that made her jaw drop.