I drink wine. Every day. Usually two glasses and lately it’s red.
Henry eats bread. Every day. Sometimes at 2 in the morning. And lately it’s white.
I judge his bread.
When I hear the paper rustle on the rustic loaf, I purse my lips tight to not ask how many slices he’s already had today.
And doesn’t he know diabetes runs in his family?
And each slice is spiking his glycemic blood-something-or-other levels?
When I uncork my wine around 5 p.m. I sense Henry listening.
I feel compelled to tell him that, while I begin drinking wine early, I also stop early. And besides, it’s a known fact that wine dissolves cholesterol, which is why the French don’t die from heart attacks.
So far, there’ve been no serious repercussions regarding my wine consumption.
Except for the time Bridget’s teacher asked if I could bring wine and cheese to an extra-curricular cocktail party, and Bridget, aged 8, gamely replied, “Of course she can, she’s an alcoholic!”
I was just checking myself in to Betty Ford, when Bridget revealed that she thought alcoholics were people who drank wine.
In any amount. Even if it was “only at weddings,” like Aunt Penny.”
Last night, around 7 p.m. I walked into the kitchen bearing my empty wine glass and unexpectedly ran into Henry reaching into a cupboard in the pantry.
“I’m not refilling,” I cried out, “I’m done drinking for the day!”
Henry fumbled the bag of baguette clutched in his bread-ghoul hands and shrieked, “This is my first slice of the day, and it’s multi-grain!”
Living with people, man. It’s 1% percent love and affection and 99% just trying to hide all the weird, compulsive, embarrassing shit you do.
16 thoughts on “What Constitutes Drinking Too Much?”
Judging people is just about the most fun activity there is – how else are we supposed to run from our own feelings of inadequacy?
D.J. I was literally just thinking about you. I’m gobsmacked by your Twitter base. Must pump you for your secrets!
I just put “hides all the weird, compulsive, embarrassing shit I do” on my resume. Thank you.
I’m getting it tattooed on my derriere while drinking a Coppola Zinfandel.
Two glasses? How about a bottle WITH a loaf of bread! As for the pencil measurement- I could hold a whole desk top. I think I’ll start my Pinot Grigio early tonight.
After just ‘celebrating’ my 15 year ‘anniversary’ with the un-husband,(with several of the middle years long distance – the upside, frequent flier miles between Florida and Texas)we have come to a compromise. I won’t raze him about his Diet Coke addiction, and he won’t give me shit when I sometimes pour a glass of pinot noir before 4 pm.
Needless to say, I usually go past your two glasses, unless they are huge glasses! I took my doctor’s recommendation very seriously when he recommended red wine after I was diagnosed with breast cancer several years ago. I’ve faithfully adhered to his recommendation!
I keep telling un-husband I’m obedient.
You know that pencil thing can also be used under butt cheeks…that’s what I’ve heard anyway…;)
Today I read even more health benefits garnered from wine and chocolate. I am going to get so anti-oxidized tonight!
Anne we’re going to age beautifully.
Shannon, your paltry 2 glasses is going to give us self-medicaters a bad name. Medicinal use requires at least three glasses per dose, and at that point, you might as well finish the bottle. I mean, really!
Meredith I think we should travel together.
Can’t you work it out where you soak up the wine with the white bread?
I like Kymerly’s idea. I love bread and wine. I guess I would be compatible with both of you.
Colorful things are healthier than things that are white.
So there.
Yeah, I was just thinking about that the other day, how weird people are, and how odd it is that we live together for so long. Who can possibly handle someone else’s weirdness for as long as our marriages are supposed to last?! My husbands bane is that he eats massive quantities of ice cream and chips and never gains a single ounce. Me, I have one spoonful and my hips blow out an inch. But I do love bread (preferably slathered with butter) and red wine.
I can’t drink at all, immediatte hedaches and hot flashes but I enjoy a sour dough or french artisan bread. Now I know where my pencil is!
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