Monday, September 20, 2010

The perils of not drinking wine

So, my husband turned 40 recently—if you read this blog regularly, then you already know that.

For his 40th, he received a bottle of sparkling red wine, purchased by a loved one especially for consumption with walleye (a tasty and locally available fish). Todd placed the bottle atop our dining room cupboard, which is graced with a pretty little wine rack shaped, oddly enough, like a fish. There the bottle has rested for a couple of weeks, lying on its side in proper wine-storage fashion. We didn't think too much about it, because we're all relatively short here in our house, and it hurts my neck to look that high. So.

Saturday night, Todd worked and the kid and I went to a marching band festival. Fabulous weather, a pleasantly cool evening, good music and big crowds... we left shortly before the festival ended, since my boy was fading fast in the past-bedtime night, and we arrived home saturated with the sounds of tubas and trombones, with batons flying in our minds. Into the garage, through the basement, up the steps, ready for a quick snack and a cozy bed... but wait: where had all that blood come from? The blood on the dining room floor? Spattered across the room, on the walls, into the kitchen?

Marcus heard my gasp (he was coming up the steps behind me). "Momma, what is it?"

I pondered how to answer that. Where had blood come from? We currently have no pet, and although we are babysitting a small goldfish, he couldn't possibly have made that much mess! Anyway, he was still swimming in his tank (out of reach of the blood, thankfully).

Then I realized what I was really seeing. I looked up, at the top of the cupboard. Sure enough, the cork was missing from that bubbly bottle. Also, the open vessel appeared to be the release point for the mess of red that decorated our walls, floor, and table. To further confirm my suspicions, there was the cork lying haphazardly on the other side of the room, far from its blasted beginnings.

People, I might have said some bad words. I was so annoyed that they might have slipped past my less-than-vigilant lips. And I apologize for whatever I might have muttered. After I had misspoken, instead of relaxing and reliving the music we'd heard earlier, I helped the kid slip past me into Legoland (our living room) and I retrieved the mop from the basement and got busy.

Three moppings later, my feet no longer stick to the wood floors. Sadly, the many blue lines left by rivulets of wine are still running faintly down our dining room walls. Cream paint, red wine—apparently they love each other because one can't seem to release the other. I see an unplanned re-painting in our future.

I am going to write a letter to the vineyard guilty of this explosive little gift, as soon as I'm not so irritated. I know they didn't mean to pummel us with their product, but I do think they should know what happened. I am really glad we weren't home when it exploded, because it literally could have taken out someone's eye. I am not so glad that we didn't come home sooner, because I might have been able to save our walls.

Is that not bizarre? And you see what happens when you don't just crack open that bottle of goodness and enjoy it—hence this post's title. Now, go drink your stored wine; it's for your own safety. Really.


chris h. said...

oh my GOSH!!! Never experienced anything like that -- worst I ever had was a cork leaking on the car mat and ruining the bottle of wine slated for our weekend hosts during a trip to DC. I would have been livid at an actual explosion - especially if it ruined paint or carpeting or such.

Athelas63 said...

Very true. All wine should be consumed ASAP - for public safety! LOL

I had a bottle "chilling" in the freezer one night for a later dinner, but then forgot about. Exploded half-frozen wine is no picnic either...

Facie said...

This is why I tend to drink my drinks out of a box. Have you tried the pomegranate margarita in a box?! I enjoy one of those (a drink, not a box) several nights a week. Never have to worry about anything exploding and the box/bag combo keeps it fresher longer, in case you can't drink it in a few days or a week (which I so could, but choose not to).

Did you really think it was blood? I wonder if that would have been my reaction. Creepy.

Mel said...

oooh, half-frozen wine--not good either. and yes, I do consume boxed things sometime, for all those reasons you mentioned. it's been a couple of days since I wrote the people an email; as of Friday morning, they'll get a call from me. and if no answer? snail mail. the nerve.