The Taste of Turpentine

When I was growing up my mother did quite a bit of painting. She was very talented. I can recall her always having her paints and brushes handy and working on some kind of project.

She always enjoyed telling a story about my brother when he was little. You see, mom always used turpentine to clean her paint brushes and one time when she wasn’t paying attention, she turned around and noticed that my brother was holding an open bottle of turpentine.

Immediately she thought, “He’s been drinking it.” Panic set in and she feared for my brother’s life. She had no idea what kind of effect turpentine would have on him.

She screamed out for my dad, and he came running. She quickly told him what the situation was and asked what they should do. He simply responded by taking away the bottle of turpentine from my brother, turned it up and took a sip for himself.

As her eyes grew wider with confusion and concern, dad lowered the bottle and said, “That stuff tastes awful. There’s no way he would have drunk enough to hurt him.”

End of story.