I am usually the first to rise in our household unless it’s a weekend and I had to work late the night before… which is why I was so puzzled to see my wife bound out of bed at O’dark thirty and mumble something about being very thirsty as she wandered out of the bedroom.
Now, let me pause for a moment to say something here about my wife’s Diet Coke addiction – it’s bad. She is a wonderful and gorgeous woman of great intelligence and compassion, but if you had to find one vice of hers… it’d be that silver, black, and red can of sugar-free cola.
And if you think of it, there are certainly worse things one could begin their morning with that would be much worse – a martini? a cigarette?
But this morning was different from other thirsty mornings for her.
“Did you buy beer in a can last night?” my wife asked a little later in the morning.
“Why, yes, dear. I did,” I told her a bit confused.
[Disclaimer: I am a beer snob and recently discovered a fantastic Colorado brew called “Dale’s Pale Ale” in a can.]
“Thanks a lot – I just reached in the fridge to my Diet Coke shelf in the dark, grabbed one and chugged it,” she said. “Now I have a headache.”
[Note: she has HER OWN shelf for Diet Coke – I told you there was an addiction here.]
Twenty-five or so years ago… I once told a childhood friend’s parents that my mom drank Jack Daniel’s in the bathtub. I have no idea where I got that – but it was pretty funny, or so I thought at the time. Now when I teach our daughters to tell their parents’ friends that “mommy drinks beer for breakfast,” there will be some modicum of truth.