Yesterday was the 21st anniversary of the day that Brenna, SuperNanny, was born. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU Brenna's parents, by the way. About a week ago she asked me if I would accompany her on her first-ever visit to the liquor store on her big day and I thought sure! Why not! It'll be a field trip!
So first thing yesterday we loaded up the kids and the double-stroller and headed off to the local ABC store. No I really didn't think about how it would look. Seriously. But once we got there and I started unfolding the stroller and strapping the kids in it struck me. It's 9:15 am and I'm standing behind my mothermobile getting ready to roll my two small children into the liquor store. Whooo hoo! You can send the parenting awards in the form of cash please.
As we entered, the old guy that runs the place yelled out a good morning and inquired as to whether we needed any help. Oh nooo thanks heh heh. Just browsing and Hey! It's her 21st birthday! THAT'S why we are here! (Insert lots of nervous laughter here.)
Once it became clear that Mr. Liquor Store Manager had seen far stranger sights than we presented, I relaxed and we started roaming the aisles. I quickly found the perfect spot between aisles so Emerson couldn't play grab-and-smash, and then discovered that the liquor industry has been, well, industrious in the past few years. To wit: two aisles of nothing but vodka: pomegranate vodka, blueberry vodka, pepper vodka, forty-eleven makes of plain vodka. The back wall was chock full of premixed cocktails once obtainable only from a bartender: B-52's, Long Island Iced Tea, Margaritas, Mudslides, Martinis, Appletinis, Chocolatinis...I was nearly drunk just looking at it all and I haven't squealed that much since my last trip to a shoe store - I was fascinated! Astonished even!
We cruised each aisle twice just in case we missed something the first time. Brenna asked me all kinds of questions that I couldn't answer and really, what IS the difference between single-malt and blended whiskey, and why is that shit so EXPENSIVE? And, if I paid $150 for a bottle of scotch would I really be able to DRINK it? Or should I place it on the mantle, price tag intact, so people can be impressed?
Brenna finally picked out a lovely bottle of Patron tequila and we made our way to the check-out counter, where the guy dutifully carded Brenna and didn't even bother PRETENDING that he wanted to see my ID. Beh.