St. Patrick's Day Revelry

My mother, who is of Irish descent, and some of her relatives and friends were having a marvelous celebration on Thursday night. Beer flowed freely --so freely that some of it found its way into my hands and down my throat. The stuff tastes atrocious, and I had to plug my nose to chug it down, but I did plug my nose and chug the stuff down in the interest of science. My brother thought the whole thing was hysterical. He thinks he's very sophisticated because he doesn't have to plug his nose to drink beer.

As I was starting on my second beer, my dad noticed what was happening and took it away from me. His effort was too little and a little too late, as, at eighty-two pounds, all I really need is a single beer to get an excellent buzz. Dad carted me upstairs and helped me brush my teeth and get into bed, and I slept through the night like a comatose sailor. The next day -- yesterday-- I stepped onto the track at my school and shattered my personal best times in two of my three hurdling events. In the 200 meter hurdles, I even managed to set a new school record.

What do you think are the chances that my parents will let me drink a Guinness the night before each of my remaining track meets? If you answered "slim to none" or "zero," you guessed correctly.