You're a respectable member of your community. You have a career, a mortgage, and two annoying, burdensome kids that prevent you from excessive day-drinking in public. The days of waking up late on a Saturday and heading out for some daytime boozing are over.

Sure, you could haul your kids into a dark, smoky bar in the middle of the day and make them eat stale peanuts and drink seltzer while you get smashed, but that's probably not a stigma you're willing to assume. And besides, the only people who do that are cliché alcoholics in movies and embellished memoirs, not assistant directors at educational non-profits who have graduate degrees.

But what if I told you that you could bring your kids to me, your local craft brewery, on a Saturday afternoon, or any afternoon, really, and get completely shitfaced without sacrificing your reputation, your self-regard, or the custody you're not even sure you really want anymore. It's true! If I have one passion as your local craft brewery, it's watching grad students pretend to like my wine barrel-aged Brett saison, which I've named The Emperor's Clothes. But if I have two passions, the second one is creating a friendly space for former grad students to drunkenly neglect their kids without shame.

So load up the minivan and head on over!

My tasting room is basically a bar in a warehouse filled with my industrial, but not, like, Annheuser-Busch-industrial, brewing equipment. You can get tanked in there if you want. I have old board games lying around to show people who've never been to a brewery how casual I am. Feel free to make your kids play Connect Four while you pound some Child Hopbandonment, my extra-high-ABV double IPA. You might be here specifically to get plastered, but your kids must be entertained while you're doing it, or you're a piece of shit. Did I mention I have water for the kids to drink?

If you're okay with getting wasted indoors, my tasting room is just fine, but I suggest getting obliterated in my beer garden. It's outdoors, there's a play area for kids, and there are cornhole boards for reputable professionals who just want to be childless again. After you convince your kids how fun a broken plastic shovel, a pile of rocks, and a half-deflated kickball can be, it's time to party. That jumbo Jenga set—it's for the adults, not the kids who don't even want to be here.

The whole thing is like a college tailgate, but instead of slamming mass-produced pilsners, you can plow through my new Garden of Hedon selection of fruit-flavored IPAs. The only other difference is you have to glance at the far corner of the garden every now and then to make sure your kids aren't dead. And they better not be because they're going to have to drive you home. My beers are super strong.

Just kidding. You can drive after drinking at me, a local craft brewery. Don't even worry about getting a DUI. You probably don't know this, but under current laws, DUIs are issued based not just on how much you drank but where you drank it. And you will drink four raspberry-pomegranate sour ales, three quadruple dry-hopped blood orange New England IPAs, and three crude oil barrel-aged chocolate cheesecake porters, all at a local craft brewery. Which is completely legal because we're kid-friendly and host a different food truck every single day! But you can't leave until you've bought some churros from Mike's authentic Mexican street food truck for the two whiny kids you forced to come.

And don't forget to pick yourself up a six-pack to go. My beers aren't available in stores because cans ruin their flavor, and because I can't afford to put them in cans. Your sixer will be six drafts poured into to-go cups, because I don't give a shit either. The cups don't have tops, so you'll have to drink the beers on the way home, or they'll get flat. Just be sure to grab a cardboard drink holder. Your kids will be sleeping at this point and won't be able to hold them for you. Little albatrosses.