Thursday, January 29, 2009

Many men can't hold their liquor.

My husband can't hold his Ginger Ale.

Twice now, he's dropped a can of Ginger Ale on the kitchen floor and it's burst to high heaven.

The first time it went straight up like Old Faithful. I was finding drops of Ginger Ale inside cupboards for months. It even got the ceiling and it's 11 feet up!

Needless to say, I was not amused but helped him clean it up because he was getting a migraine and I pitied him.

The second time, I chose to not attend the pity party. He aimed it a little differently and it sprayed my dining room like a bottle rocket... the table, the chairs, the chandelier and the carpet. He even got the cat. That was the closest I've heard him to cursing in years. There may have been some, but it must have been in Klingon.

Today was the day the big carpet cleaner got pulled out to remedy the carpet.

The kicker is that, although I don't drink sodas and was not the room when these incidents occured, it's my fault.

Apparently I need to buy Ginger Ale that is packaged in a quality can so as not to burst when he drops it from 4 feet onto a hard surface.

I think I'll go buy some now.

If anyone is looking for me, I'll be shopping. I'm in charge of buying the Ginger Ale for the next pity party. And I need a new outfit for it.

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