From the post, “I don’t regret those times. And I don’t feel guilty. Since adopting the parental absolution of all blame policy several years ago, I’ve avoided the kind of introspection that could result in parental owies. Seriously, if it’s in the past, what’s the point of regret? It’s not like I passed out in the mashed potatoes, I was just usually pretty much under the influence by the end of dinner. Oh, and I tended to have a pretty short fuse.” Another great piece by redswrap.wordpress.com.
There was a time when I joked that there wasn’t any problem in our lives that couldn’t be fixed with bigger wine glasses.
And we bought some really big ones. Giant wine glasses that could double as cereal bowls, maybe mixing bowls if the situation got desperate enough. We didn’t horse around with our wine glasses. We got the biggest they made. Bucket o’ wine.
In a restaurant, the waiter might bring giant wine glasses to the table and then, after opening the wine, pour a respectable amount of wine in each person’s glass. Maybe a finger, maybe two.
We didn’t do that. Coming from the glass half full school of life, we filled those buckets right up to the halfway mark. Still half a glass of wine, right? Who can find fault with half a glass of wine?
When my mother-in-law was dying and my beloved job was turning…
View original post 319 more words
Praying for Eyebrowz 