A Word Of Caution

Okay, so mimosas are the "offical cocktail" of Dear Queenan and as such I would never say a disparaging word about them. I will, however, offer a word of caution about their consumption, in hopes that you, dear readers, may avoid the disgraceful behavior leading to the utter humiliation under which I am forced to survive until the foggy memory of old age renders Sweetpotato forgetful of my actions. You see, I feel that mimosa-drinking was what Saturday afternoons were made for and I will cling to this belief with my dying breath; however, I do think it is ill-advised to enter into heavy consumption when one has relatives visiting for dinner- even if those relatives are your more fun-loving aunt and uncle, out-of-town guests over the age of 50 should probably not be subjected to your totally inebriated states if at all possible. Use caution when drinking any alcoholic beverage that could be mistaken for a juice drink, lest you find yourself sitting in a bustling Time's Square restuarant unable to form complete sentences or hold you head upright for extended periods of time. I understand that at some point I was actually sleeping at the table. That, by some divine grace, I did not face-plant into my food is a mild consolation considering I couldn't even begin to guess what I ate...I recall a doughnut, but then, that could have just as easily been a dream.

And of course, Sweetpotato wasn't drunk and of course he remembers everything I did and said (which thankfully wasn't much as I usually attempt to keep my answers monosyllabic when in danger of slurring). From his reports, these were not my finest hours, and I prefer to remain ingorant of the details. Somewhere around the time we left the restaurant I believe I became moderately coherent, enough to say goodbye to my aunt, uncle and their nice friends from Long Island, who I had just met and on whom I was undoubted making a smashing impression, or a smashed one at any rate.

And so friends I just wanted to issue a warning statement- not against drinking mimosas, I would never say anything so drastic. But, just in general, if you have plans to dine with people twice your age to whom you are related, you might want to avoid inviting them to dinner then blacking out and leaving your boyfriend who has just met them to take care of the order, the conversation, and making sure you're not drooling on your arm. For while these stories might be amusing now, especially to your boyfriend (who is probably exaggerating the accounts anyway,) I trust they will not be half so humorous in 10 years when you are once again the laughing stock of Thanksgiving dinner. Bear that in mind the next time you drink champagne on an empty stomach... and maybe we'll stop using straws from now on;-)