I long for the days when a kid managing to drink half a beer wasn't grounds to call the Poison Control hotline...
By the age of 4 I lived an entirely non-child-proofed home. With a stocked liquor cabinet. Oddly enough, I never got into the booze, nor went out wandering the streets at 1 AM. Mostly because I knew my parents would deliver a savage beating if I did either of those things, much less sneak into a neighbor's house and commit theft.
Still, not a clear case of neglect or negligence. The doors were supposedly locked, and while some folks frown upon kids having access to alcohol, I wasn't raised in a household that believed in coddling children by removing the possibility of misdeed, but rather a household that believed in letting children make choices and dealing with those choices when the time came. So long as the child is made aware that alcohol is potentially dangerous, it doesn't matter much to me whether it's where they can get at it or not.
So it's possible that this is an example of bad parenting, and it's also possible that this is simply an example of a child acting out in a fashion that he knows is wrong, but he's going through a very difficult period in his life and this, for whatever reason, is the method he has chosen to express his internal conflict.
This is so very true. We hear the cliche all the time, but parent's nowadays are wrapping their kids up in cotton wool, thinking the best way to protect children from dangers is to keep them under their watch as much as they can.
When I was a kid, during any period of vacation from school, myself and my two brothers would be outside from 30 minutes after we woke up, in for lunch (quickly), back out until dinner, scoff down our last meal then back out until 2 hours after it was dark. We would climb the trees in our garden, make dens amongst the bushes, go out on our bikes, play football (soccer), and the day was never long enough. If there was something remotely exciting or dangerous, you'd probably do it. A good example? Me and my brothers found this container with some stinking white liquid in it. Being kids, we wanted to know what it was. I poured it out, watching the viscous liquid smother the grass around us, not noticing that in the process I had covered myself and my brothers in the same stuff. We got home for dinner, and got our asses handed to us for ruining our clothes. Didn't do that again.
Children learn better from making their own mistakes, and this is the case all the way until adulthood, and beyond. If you just
tell a kid not to do something because it's naughty, bad or dangerous, their obedience will be challenged by their curiosity. My parents told me what was right and wrong, what to do and what not to do, but they also told me that they couldn't always be watching me and that I'd have to learn for myself why they told me the things that they did. Sure enough, after a certain amount of lessons learned, I accepted the fact that my parents were infinitely full of wisdom you obtain from making your own mistakes and living in this world.
A 4 year-old drinking half a can of beer? If anything, he'll be put off the stuff, at worst, he'll like it. Kids in France are brought up drinking wine with their meals, and the effect of a little alcohol on children is massively over-stated. When I was young, my father (a doctor) used to let me have a sip of his beer from time to time, and my Grandfather would let me sip his wine at Christmas time. I hated both, and didn't try either again until I was about 16. Sheltering kids from dangers only increases their will to find out what it's all about - things that are forbidden are always more appealing to the young. This, of course, applies to certain things more than others. There are certain things that you can't learn from by making the mistake, as the mistake can have devastating effects (playing near railways, drugs(I'm not talking hash, I'm talking heroine, coke etc.)). None of these variables were present in this case; the child needs counseling and support, not to have his life further impacted by losing the one remaining biological parent he has left.