Babies, you don't know what you're missing

Babies, you - those of you under 1 year of age, anyway - don't know what you're missing. Sure, there are a lot of things you can't do: drive, vote, breakdance (at least until you're two), drink fabulous beer; you can't even ride a bike for christ's sake! And you've probably written these things off as activities you'll grow into (maybe - or maybe you've written them off altogether); you feel you can wait a few months, years or whatever to participate in these rituals so important to our culture (and personal well-being). While an understandable outlook, it *is* somewhat naive; it's like your nervous system isn't totally developed or something.

And if that's the case, then that totally sucks for you. What else can I say?

But if you do have any sense - and I hope that you do; stars be not crossed! - you would sink into proto-depression upon realization of the worst of it.. forget the drinking and driving (or drinking and landlording), the true horror is that you cannot eat the most delicious and biblical (and I mean that in every sense of the word) of foods: honey, in any incarnation. Wow, it almost - almost - pains me to think about it (i.e. your stunted life), but then I take another bite of my peanut butter, banana and honey sandwich, a device positively dripping with the most delightfully-hued and edible goodness, and I snap back into an existence filled with hedonist (and gooey) bliss.

My god, when I think of honey, I wish it would waterfall down my walls; I wish honey would *become* my walls, ever-flowing and golden. Can you imagine any greater pleasure than to slip into a shiny porcelain tub of the stuff, to feel its heavy viscosity all about you, and in the process, become a hungry bear's delight (or, a languid bear's envy). Yes, let's enjoy the life's work of a million busy bees; a decadent dip to heal thy wounds! Afterwards, you realize you've never been so fresh, so clean; you're a preservative-free treat, and I'm wishing to shake your hand.

It seems the science behind the baby ban lies in your low-acid digestion system; it cannot handle a certain type of living organism found in honey, even processed honey (and other sweeteners, actually). I don't know: I think it could be worth the small chance of paralysis (or death) to be able to kiss the pollen-dusted and sun-drenched hand of Melisseus before that first birthday (when, apparently, your digestive system wises up). Now, I'm not telling you what to do, but I am saying "think about it"; you've got to grow up sooner or later, and - I can assure you - any experience with honey will make you a hit at the playground.