I started drinking

 

The assumption is that everyone had wild party days when they were younger, right?
I didn't.
No, seriously.
I didn't like the feeling of being out of control.
I definitely didn't want to have regrets, think something is hilarious when it's not, or spend time and money on something so counterproductive.
It also didn't taste that good.
Mixed drinks? Okay, yes, yum. But not THAT yummy.
And people chugging and coughing or making "YUCK!" faces after swallowing a shot - what's the point? At least make it yummy.

Then my mother in law poured me a tiny glass of Irish Cream.
I wanted more.
I needed more!
My mother in law now feels completely responsible for my drinking habit. I think that's silly. I choose to drink the yumminess.

Yes, our life has been unbelievably stressful, it's true.
But the buzz or whatever wasn't the appeal.
It's like chocolate.
So so yummy.
There was a phase at the end of last year where I had a nightly cup.
Now I don't always think of it.

But when I do, yum.

And no, I don't store it in the washing machine, always.