As a parent, my mornings are spent trying to appease my children’s finicky and inconsistent food preferences, digging mashed, soggy Cheerios out of carpeting, and overriding the time controls on the kids’ tablets over and over again as my wife and I attempt to eke out a moment of rest. Don’t get me wrong, I love my children. But I miss easing into the day. I miss brunch. Mornings overflowing with bellinis and mimosas. Avocado toast. Dining al fresco at a hip downtown restaurant. Soaking up the laughter of my friends and the rays of a soft spring sun. Not feeling guilty for drinking before noon. Not worrying if the day will come to a crashing halt because a child finds an errant onion in their omelet or suddenly realizes, for no reason at all, that they need a Band-Aid.

My parents agreed to take the kids last weekend, and I decided to surprise my wife with brunch. While researching menu ideas (I was torn between a broccoli quiche and strawberry French toast), I came across Eggo Brunch in a Jar Sippin’ Cream, the latest moonshine concoction from the mad geniuses at Sugarlands Distilling Co. and the fine folks at Kellogg Company. The press release claimed that Eggo Brunch in a Jar Sippin’ Cream is the perfect treat to help busy parents “kick back” and relax when they’re not caring for their little ones. The product contains the essence of brunch, the companies claimed, in a portable jar for easy sippin’. And at 40 proof, I was sold.

The next morning, with the first rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds, I woke my wife. I had planned to let her sleep in, but I was too excited about the Eggo Brunch in a Jar Sippin’ Cream.

“What’s this?” she asked, squinting at the label.

“Moonshine,” I said, unscrewing the cap of my own jar and taking a sip.

My wife sat up, alarmed. “Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking moonshine?”

“Come on,” I said, taking another sip. “This wasn’t made in the dark hollows of some forest. You won’t go blind. It’s a treat. For parents.”

She shook her jar; the moonshine sloshed around like pancake batter. “Is it like a coffee creamer?”

“No, you sip it. Right from the jar. Sugarlands distills piña colada, peanut butter and jelly, blueberry muffin, and a bunch of other authentic flavors.”

I turned up the Sonos speaker, hoping she’d understand. I wanted this morning to be magical, like when we were carefree and young. Raising my voice over The Strokes singing “Last Nite,” I asked her to try her brunch in a jar.

She unscrewed her cap and took a tentative sip. “Ugh, it’s really sweet,” she said, grimacing. She eyed my half-empty jar, “How were you able to drink all of that?”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I wasn’t halfway through my first jar, but my second. She was right too; Eggo Brunch in a Jar Sippin’ Cream is sweet, excessively so. The press release had mentioned “toasted Eggo waffles, sweet maple syrup, and rich butter, with a hint of smoky bacon.” But after a bit of sippin’, the individual flavors merged and reminded me of leftover cereal milk, only heavier and boozy. I didn’t feel like I was in my twenties or even particularly carefree. Instead, I felt bloated and sluggish, and I was beginning to worry how my digestive tract would react to a jar and a half of sippin’ cream.

I screwed the cap on my jar and sighed. I had to admit Eggo Brunch in a Jar Sippin’ Cream did not capture the magic of brunch and that The Strokes, if I’m being honest, should have quit twenty years ago. I turned off the speaker. “I’m going to hit the couch for a bit,” I told my wife. I needed to sleep this off.

“Remember,” she said as I walked out, “we have a pickleball reservation at ten. I don’t want you wasting the day drinking moonshine or whatever. We’re not young anymore.”