“I think I’m going to have a glass of wine.”
Dude. It’s like 6:30 in the morning.
“Yeah, so? Who says you can’t have wine with breakfast.”
Um. Pretty much every social convention. And your mom.
“Please. Have you seen how many mimosas that woman can put away?”
Yeah, but at least there’s orange juice in them. They’re breakfast-y.
“Well so is this Lang Amador County Barbera. Check out the label on the 2006. It has aromas of vanilla, raspberry, cranberry and bacon.”
I really don’t see your point. Wine is just not something you … wait. Did you say bacon?
“That’s what the label says. Oh, and listen to this. All these flavors combined lead to a palate of blueberry jam, cocoa and toast with a juicy, even zippy finish.”
Bacon. Toast. Jam. I guess that does sound pretty breakfast-y. I’m sold. Pour me a glass.
“And campfire.”
Wait, what? What do you mean, campfire?
“It says it tastes like campfire.”
That sounds painful. I’m out.
“I think it probably just means there’s some smoky undertones to it.”
I dunno …
“Come on! Breakfast by the campfire? That sounds amazing.”
You know, why not? I’m the adventurous type. IN.
“That’s the spirit.”
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