Last night we drove out to the Edgefield. We were on a mission in search of the perfect wine for two of our favorite people in the world. It was a difficult mission of utmost importance, since we had very specific instructions to acquire an Edgfield wine that would appeal to both the sweet and dry halves of the couple. We succeeded, but that's not the point of this post ...
As we were driving through Gresham, I was thinking, "Hmm ... we should call J while we're here." J is a friend of ours from college who lives in Troutdale not far from the Edgefield. Just as I was about to open my mouth to say something, A says, "Hey, we should call J and see if she wants to join us at the Edgefield for a beer."
<blink> ... <blink>
Damn. We really have been married for long enough to start thinking the same. scary.
So A calls J. Not only is she home, but her parents are in town - whom we know and love well indeed. Apparently moments before A called, J's mom was asking her how we were doing:
Mom: "So have you talked to G & A lately?"
J: "Not much since the Super Bowl party."
<ring>
J gets up to look at the caller ID on the phone.
J: "Ack! Mom, you're not going to believe this ..."
<blink> ... <blink>
And this was before we started drinking.
Sunday, August 7
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