It’s been years since I’ve enjoyed a glass of wine.
I haven’t touched any alcohol since I began trying for a baby. Then I fell pregnant, had the baby, and then breastfed for a year. So I’d say it has been 2 years.
I’m not a big drinker anyway. I don’t crave alcohol, and I don’t enjoy the hangover the next day. Not to mention, I have the Asian gene that turns me into a bright red lobster if I drink too much. So I tend to stay away.
But I LOVE the taste of red wine.
And I’ve been keeping a special bottle for the moment I decide to be … a little naughty, reckless and indulgent. To celebrate ME, if you will.
Yesterday, I decided, was that day.
I poured myself a very small glass of red wine, I snuck into the back room, turned up the music and sat back to enjoy. Ah, it was a grand, stolen moment.
A little while later, my husband must’ve seen the opened bottle, realised what was going on … and appreciated how unusual this moment was in my life.
So he quietly brought this into my room, and without a word, placed it beside me and left.
Water. Panadol. Chocolate.
For my hydration. Hangover. Happiness.
I don’t know about you, but I thought it was one of those unexpected, beautiful gestures that speak a thousand words of love.