On this day dedicated to you, I just want to take the time to thank you. For as many years as I’ve legally been allowed to drink you (and then some), you’ve been providing me with the clarity to do what’s right, especially when it comes to my family. Without you, that innocent yet incredibly annoying “are we there yet?” echoing from the backseat could have lead me to do something I would have sorely regretted. The passenger seat is a tumultuous place: I made the mistake of letting my husband drive while I was subjected to the hellish chatter of my children (bless their hearts) in the back. But during this trying time I was able to hold my ground, reach for the emergency mom-wine flask I keep conveniently under my seat, and take a long swig of your brilliance. In that moment, my higher self thanked me, and I thanked her back, for she is a dormant warrior queen that only your presence can truly awaken. So when that third “are we there yet?” occurred, I had the clarity to calmly say, “two more hours, Timmy” instead of bashing his head in with the car door like I might have done without you. You always seem to keep me from committing first degree murder, and for that I am eternally grateful.
Thank you wine, for all the moments I could have strangled my husband to death, but didn’t. Every time I trip over the shoes that he leaves in the middle of our bedroom, every time he doesn’t replace the toilet paper in the bathroom and leaves the empty roll for me to clean up. Every time, YOU rescue me from wrapping my sturdy mom-hands around his throat and squeezing as hard as I can until he turns blue. One sip — no, one look at your beautiful physique — and I am a new woman. No longer do I feel the urge to murder or maim him during his obnoxious comments during The Bachelor. I am like Buddha, floating on the couch cradling you in my arms while I whisper you words of thanks. You continue to save my marriage over and over, and I am a better wife because of what you do for me. I’m sure my husband thanks you too, for without you, he would be six feet under along with the other men I probably would have strangled to death before him.
So to conclude, I’d just like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for stopping me from ending my loved ones time and time again. Your grapes are wise, your vines are eternal, and your alcohol content is often above 6% (step it up, Moscato). Because of you, I can enjoy the time spent with my family without disemboweling and quartering them, and focus on the important things in life, like equal pay for women and the right to choose. When you’re in my hands, I can say yes to the world and no to my murderous tendencies. Thank you again and again, and happy National Wine Day.
P.S. I would, however, like to add that the hangovers have become unbearable. Not that I’m complaining, just worth mentioning. Again, so grateful.