I remember when I was a child my father, who was not a believer, brought a bottle of Tequila to our house. He placed it in the highest spot in the kitchen hoping that our short little arms would not reach it. He didn’t count on the length of our curiosity.
My two sisters and I found a way to get to the bottle. Like most forbidden objects, it captivated our curiosity. We found a way to climb up on the counter, we put a small stool on top of it, and climbed up to the top of the kitchen cabinet to take possession of the enticing “juice.”