Wine'ing

So, many years ago I had a college friend who told me that her mother bought a case of wine every week not to save it in some fancy wine cellar but because that's how much she drank.  And at the time I found it shocking that a grown woman, a mother at that, could drink a case of wine per week and not spend the majority of the rest of her free time either passed out or chugging bottles of water and swallowing aspirins in an even ratio with the amount of booze she was consuming. 

Now, I am a grown woman with a real job and a family of sorts - by that I mean a husband and a dog who occassionally barfs on the floor with no warning, in the same manner as a baby who recently visited this establishment.  By all this I mean I have responsibilities and can't afford to get wasted every night and then sleep til noon like I did in college.  Also it's not fun any more because now my body rejects all that alcohol at about 7 am in the form of a skull-crushing headache accompanied by a violent upheaval of my intestines. 

The point of thsi story is that this afternoon, Adam and I went to the new grocery store in town and I steered us down the wine aisle where I picked up my usual small bottle of pinot grigio and put it in the cart, and he promptly removed it and replaced it with the gigantic bottle of the same pinot grigio, the one that could get the entire cast of Glee wasted.  And then he said "here you boozer, just open it and chug it right here in the middle of the store already - you know you want to". 

No he didn't.  He actually said something like "well you'll drink it all."  but what i heard was closer to the first one.  So now I feel bad for thinking badly of my friend's mom who drinks a case of wine per week, because at least she had three kids to justify her drinking.  I only have a dog with a mild case of upset stomach.