Wine and Crap in the Tub

Here's the part of the post that makes it look like we actually get to savor our wine: We've decided to expand our horizons into Riesling, which we formerly assumed was just a sicky sweet wine for losers. When we went wine tasting way back when, we found a dry riesling at Erath (one of our favorite spots) and brought it home. A few weeks ago, Katherine Cole (a wine writer for the Oregonian) who seems pretty cool and unassuming wrote this article about "Why Riesling Rocks," and we decided to leave all the kids' toys scattered on the floor and spend some quality time by uncorking the bottle we had. We loved it, and of course since we decided right away to buy more, it's sold out wherever we look. BUT, having opened our door to riesling, we decided to sample a few others. I found this dry riesling from Chateau Ste Michelle (which actually owns Erath these days, I believe), and we liked that one, too.

Here's the part of the post that reveals what life is really like at our house: Last night, we tried a bottle from the same winery that I'd found on the cheap at Costco. It wasn't labeled "dry" but when I got home from Jazzercise, Jay needed a drink and I was happy to oblige and this bottle was cold. We also enjoyed it - it was the perfect wine to sip while recovering from a good workout and listening to Jay's horror story about bathing the girls while I was gone. Jay never enjoys bathing both girls, but he had volunteered to go for it while I was at class. Apparently, he had left the two girls alone in the tub for a bit when a dripping wet Maggie came to get him to tell him that Ellie had "pooped in the tub." Indeed, she had, and according to Jay, it was an admirable effort. Disgusted, he removed the girls from the tub and marched their little naked dripping bodies into our shower. While they were in there, he went back into Ellie's bathroom to fish turds out of the water and somehow sanitize the tub. While he was doing that, he heard Maggie yell, "NO, ELLIE!! DON'T PICK THAT UP!!" He figured that exclamation did not bode well for what he was about to encounter in our bathroom, and he was right. It seems he got in there in time to find Ellie running from the room with two fistsful of crap. Needless to say, when I got home from class, he looked a bit spent and shell-shocked and needed a glass of wine (or a whole bottle).

I hope that someday he will be able to look back and laugh because it was pretty hysterical listening to him tell the story and using the word "shit" literally: "...so I'm thinking to myself, 'How the hell am I going to clean all this shit up?'"