I have a love-hate with Irish Cream. It is like drinking velvet, and yet, like drinking paint thinner.
My first taste of liquor as at about age eight. My uncle had a trailer and invited me inside; this sounds like some creepy trailer trash "I got candy little girl" situation but I assure you it wasn't. He had a motorhome parked at my grandma's house which he used for hunting game. Anyways, I always loved to play in the motorhome because it was like the ultimate play fort, so I went inside and went into the fridge to get a soda. My family doesn't drink soda, so an ice cold Pepsi was a special treat. He then grabbed a glass and said, "hey, want a sip of Irish Cream? Just a teeny sip?"
I was lactose intolerant, something I didn't quite realize meant "milk hurts your innards" and instead thought of it as "my mean parents won't let me have milk". So when my uncle offered Irish cream, naive me thought, hey Irish cream must be some extra special kind of milk and my parents will never know! I was all excited that I'd get to drink milk, so I put the bottle to my mouth and took a huge gulp.
Ahh the cooling coating tastiness of, what the heck? This "Irish cream" stuff began to burn my throat and I rushed to the sink to spit it out. "I think your milk went bad" I cried, as my uncle broke out into fits of laughter. He explained it was not milk but alcohol and that was why I was supposed to have the tiniest sip. I recall telling him that they shouldn't trick people by naming it after some kind of foreign milk.
And so, even to this day I get a little twinge whenever I have Irish cream.