Drinking with the Grandparents

My grandparents have been wanting Gene and I to come see them since we moved back to Central Iowa - as most grandparents do. It was always, "Come over for supper sometime" or "Come to church with us!" - both of which we always found ways out of, the first because while my grandmother cooks very well, it has to be practically vegetarian due to Grandpa's gout; the second because the minister at their church is brain numbingly boring. He intones EVERYTHING on the same pitch and then tries to get the congregation to shout "Praise the Lord!" like we're Baptists. Sorry to all the Baptists out there, but Methodists, while hardly conservative, do not jump to their feet, thrust their hands in the air, and shout the Lord's name in ecstasy. At least Central Iowan Methodists don't; we require music to get us to say more than the Lord's Prayer or Amen.

But anyway, last weekend, while cornered after the mandatory family Easter service (at which Gene sang Handel's Hallelujah Chorus with me), Grandma and Grandpa Burton asked Gene and I to go drinking with them...wait what? Yes, indeed, they had invitations to the local winery which was having a bash, and they wanted us to go along with them. Score, free food and wine! Gene and I promptly forgot all about it until today, when the aforementioned bash was. While running errands we drove by the local winery, Summerset, and suddenly I remembered our obligation that night. We made it home in time to change and pretend that we had spent the entire day waiting for them to come get us before they picked us up at 5:30. When we got there, Grandpa registered us and reordered his usual case of red wine (for his heart). We each got a "1 drink" ticket and proceeded to the back room. There they had a tasting table set up with three of their new wines: Marechal Foch (which was basically a weak red table wine), LaCrosse (which was a sweet white), and Chambourcin (a dryer, better tasting red). Before going upstairs where the party was being held, we turned in our tickets for not "1 drink," but A WHOLE BOTTLE of WINE - our choice of the 22 varieties they had on hand. I chose a semi-dry white that tasted like a Pino Grigio, and Gene got a bottle of the Chambourcin; Grandma got the Rose, and Grandpa got the standard red table wine. So now, Gene and I are sitting in a pretty nice dining room with my grandparents and FOUR bottles of wine! We cracked open the white and Grandma was through her glass in no time! My grandma gets really giggly when tipsy - I now know where I get this from. Another group of four sat down opposite us and the older gentleman opened with, "So who wants to Kiss Me?" Kiss Me apparently is a type of white wine he had chosen. It was actually really good - slightly spicy. We had supper, and a band, The Tony Valdez Group, set up. Gene and I danced to several songs including a jazz/swing cover of "Heard it Through the Grapevine" which was...interesting... I even danced with my grandpa, who can actually lead (unlike Gene...).

Since none of us are very big drinkers, we only went through two bottles of wine between the four of us and that was pushing it. Overall, it was a very enjoyable evening. Who would have thought drinking with your grandparents could be so fun?