It was Willem's birthday yesterday. In the morning I made him crepes and he opened his gifts. Then we took the train to see his bro-in-law in concert. It was an orchestral performance, with a brass band thrown in for fun - a fusion of Americana folk music and jazz and 30% improvisation.
Willem's youngest nephew, six-year-old Paul, climbed up on my lap and we went through my purse, looking for anything sweet. There were a handful of individually-wrapped hard mints from a restaurant. There was also one piece of chocolate. We unwrapped the truffle slowly and quietly - during the louder parts of the performance. Eventually, it was freed from the wrapper. Paul crammed the whole thing in his mouth and rested his head back on me in an affect of utter bliss. It was too late that I smelled the distinctly strong odor of liquor. Apparently, the truffle wasn't caramel filled - but, rather, rum-filled. Of course it was too late to do anything except feel incredibly guilty for feeding a preschool aged child alcohol. I watched Paul like a hawk after that to be sure there were no lasting effects - but whether his goofy, naughty behavior was due to the truffle or due to the 2 hour concert, I can't be sure.
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