Don’t judge. 

I’m probably destroying any future credit I have as a wine blogger, but sometimes I love a cheap glass of an unamed Pinot Grigio in the heat of the summer while I eat seafood with my family at a restaurant with brown paper table cloths. 

My toddler draws with crayons, then dips one in Cajun sauce and tastes it, the guys talk shop and I can unwind, people watch and sip my slightly bland yet enjoyable freezing cold wine. 

It’s heaven really. Deep fried, smothered in some sort of sauce heaven. 

Said toddler puts down an entire bowl of mussels by himself, between bites of cajun smothered crayon, and somehow I’m able to forget how he refused to get in his stroller for both miles of our walk today. Being adorably independent in 98° weather trying to get somewhere on time is not so adorable. 

My salmon is perfect. My salad is boring. But the wine is cold and I don’t even care what I can taste in it, what color it is or if it has legs. It’s just yummy. 

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