In the 'old days' like when my grandparents were young, many of the old farmers and lumber men in the area where I grew up, had drinking problems. Being of Irish or Scottish background, it was often a common thing. No one ever spoke the word 'alcoholic' more like they would say 'spree' or 'binge'. This way no one had to admit that there was a problem. People covered for their family members drinking and thought no one knew, when actually everyone knew.
There would come a time when a wife or mother would reach her breaking point, she would haul the man down to the local priest or minster and have him swear a pledge never to drink again. The man not actually being able to stop would create a 'stash'. My father and his friends would often tell us younger lads about the old folks stash. They spoke of finding bottles of whisky or beer hidden in stable mangers, hay stacks, water troughs, wood piles, under stumps or almost any place where the women would not find them. To this day, sometimes along fence lines when an dead tree falls over, there will be a small bottle tangled in the roots.
I was lucky in that my parents viewed drinking as a waste of money and they also saw it as a character weakness or flaw, so I was able to avoid any hardships brought on by parents drinking as some of my friends went through. My Dad does have a 'stash' however and it is one of his quirks that I find so funny. The problem is my father is suppose to watch what he eats, however he always had a major sweet tooth, the sweeter-fattier-gooey-sugarier something is, the better he likes it. He will put jam or syrup on cake and cookies if you don't watch him. My Mom takes care of him and makes him low fat meals watching what he eats. He however hides goodies from my mom because, trust me if she finds out he is going to remember the lecture! The worse place of all is his old pickup, it is a virtual crack-house of goodies. From chocolate bars in the glove compartment to cookies, little cakes, pop, chips under or behind the seat, you will find almost anything to satisfy a junk food craving. The truck is the safest spot at the moment as his dog also realized what he is up to and will swipe cookies if she can find them.
I used to turn him in, that is right, I ratted him out! I did not want to lose him as he had health problems. I used to tell him "Dad you can hide that stuff from Mom, but you can't hide it from your heart". Now years later however I see it different, he is in his 70's and worked hard all his life, he will not be with us forever so why not let him enjoy a secret cookie. It may sound strange to say but I would rather he passed on happy doing what he likes at a younger age than for him to be in his 90's locked up in a home. It also does not hurt to know where I can get a candy bar when I want to cheat on my diet as well!