Living proof

I am 57 years old and I have a total of 17 years of doing time, mostly because of my addictions. I am an alcoholic--a real one. My story starts out, from what I was told by my parents, when I was 2 and came out of the kitchen sideways. I had taken a beer out of the fridge and downed it. Ever since then, I had taken to whiskey and beer. My dad was a bad alcoholic himself and always had them around; I think he had put whiskey in my bottle when I was a baby. I was always with my mom and dad no matter where they went--to their friends or to parties to the bar. Whenever Dad sat down his beer or glass of whiskey I was right there. He would pick it back up and it would be half gone. Of course, being an alkie himself, Dad would always say, "That's my boy!"