I am a fan of Dogfish Head Craft Brewed Ales. I love their beer. Even their beers that aren’t good – like a recent mint stout – are spectacular failures. They do amazing things, like resurrect beer recipes from thousands of years ago or make an IPA with more hops then anyone has ever attempted before.
Sometimes, as I sip (nay, gulp) Raison d’Etre I want to weep with joy.
I also follow Dogfish Head on Facebook, and every once in a while they are hiring. Could I change my life completely – MamaGoof and I abandoning our professional training in order to become stockboys at the Dogfish Head warehouse.
I broach the topic with the Little Goofs:
“What if we moved to Rehobeth so mommy and I could work at Dogfish Head?”
“Daddy, you are obsessed!” GoofGirl scolds.
“Dad, is this like the time you listened to that book about cod and all you could talk about was buying a boat and working the sea?” GoofBoy asked.
“I think you’d like there. We’d have to live in a smaller house, but it would be near the beach.”
“What’s the catch?” GoofBoy asked, he knows me.
“Mommy and I would drink beer all the time, so you would be raised by seagulls.”
“Caw, caw!” he answered.