The other day at dinner, I spilled a glass of red wine. All over the table, and my chair, and the
floor, and my black sweatpants.
We have ceramic tile floor in our home, which means that
anything that spills on it will splash from here to Timbuktu.
Do you live in Timbuktu?
I bet you got splashed with my wine spill.
The worst part was not that I had to clean it up before I
even got to eat my own dinner, or even that the kids continued to eat their
dinner while I got down on my hands and knees under the kitchen table to clean
not only the spill itself, but the underside of everything, the walls, the
windows, all the chairs, the table, and anything else that was splashed with
red wine, or that they commented on how much wine that was in that glass that
spilled, or even that my house immediately smelled like a frat house. It’s amazing how spilled wine smells kind of like spilled beer.
The worst part was that it was the LAST GLASS OF WINE.
And that, my friends, is the biggest sin of all.
I would never attempt to recreate the scene of the crime as evidence, because
wasting wine is an unforgiveable sin.
That I did.
So you will have to make do with this accurate reenactment instead:
Don't judge me. I've suffered enough. |
*******
The story was great enough...the visual was laugh out loud awesome.
ReplyDeleteAlso, can we talk about that cute placemat with the three black cats on it? Have to find one of those for my Rotten Cats.
Thank you! It really was a tragedy of epic proportions.
DeleteI think the placemat is vintage Walmart, circa 2004. My mom got me the set of four (2 owls, 2 cats) when the kids were little. Sadly, one got ripped just this week and couldn't be salvaged. So now I have an awkward set of three.