There is a saying, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." I felt that way this weekend.
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| Our intimate wine tasting? Um. Not quite. |
I asked my darling Mister to please take me to a wine and chocolate tasting for Valentine's Day. Two of my favorites: wine and chocolate. It was cheap-and it was a fund raiser. Those two things should have tipped me off that this was not going to be a sit down intimate affair.
When we arrived to the crowded wine bar outside DC, my darling Mister leaned in and whispered ever so sweetly, "I am glad this was not MY idea." I mouthed, "I hate this." We had landed in the middle of what felt like Happy Hour for the over 30-wine connoisseur-philanthropic.
Let me tell you a little bit about me. I don't do "Happy Hour"-that after work time when drinks are cheap and the bars are crowded with professionals who are hopeful for a hookup. I confessed, "This is why I am a stay-at-home mom. My idea of Happy Hour is drinking alone-at home-in my bathrobe." He laughed. I do believe he loves me or he has learned to tolerate me much like an annoying hangnail.
We meandered our way through the crowds. We met some wonderful winemakers (or whatever they are called) from around the area. We tasted some piquant vino, and then we got the hell out of there.
Let me tell you a little bit about me. I don't do "Happy Hour"-that after work time when drinks are cheap and the bars are crowded with professionals who are hopeful for a hookup. I confessed, "This is why I am a stay-at-home mom. My idea of Happy Hour is drinking alone-at home-in my bathrobe." He laughed. I do believe he loves me or he has learned to tolerate me much like an annoying hangnail.
We meandered our way through the crowds. We met some wonderful winemakers (or whatever they are called) from around the area. We tasted some piquant vino, and then we got the hell out of there.
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| Much better. |
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