Are you OK, Jared asked.
Yes, I’ve been awake since 3:44 a.m., I said.
My body had gotten more than four hours of sleep and was tricked into thinking that was enough.
Welcome to motherhood, Jared said, laughing.
Yeah, yeah. Since I’m up, I’m going to run to the grocery store, I said.
Are you sure you want to go now, Jared asked. It’s 5:30.
Yep, I said. Saves me from bundling up Baby Girl to do it later (there was a wind chill warning in effect). I’ll be back before you go to work.
Have fun on your outing, he said. Hurry home.
Gee, thanks, I thought.
At the store I found everything I needed to make my new stuffing recipe for an early Thanksgiving dinner with friends that night.
Then this …
We don’t sell alcohol before 8, the clerk said.
What, I asked, dismayed.
Don’t look at me, she said. It’s state law.
So much for the white wine part of the recipe.
I slogged back to the car, some groceries in tow, and checked my phone only to read: “She’s awake and hungry. Hurry home.”
You see, we can’t get Baby Girl to take a bottle, which means I can only be gone for a few minutes at a time unless she takes an epic nap.
Are you OK, Jared asked for the second time in an hour when I got home.
No, I said, holding back tears. I couldn’t buy wine for my recipe and now I have to go shopping again later.
It’s alright, babe, he consoled me. Just don’t use the wine.
No, I have to use the wine. It’s part of the recipe. It gets all the good bits into the sauce, I explained. I don’t understand why they wouldn’t sell me wine before 8. It’s not like I was going on a bender.
Well, you look like you could use a drink now, Jared said as he left to shower.
About a half hour later he returned to the kitchen, still dripping water.
How long before you would start looking for me, he asked.
Huh, I said.
I fell asleep in the shower, he said. Luckily I leaned against the wall instead of falling over.
Welcome to fatherhood, I quipped, and it’s only 7.
**Let it be noted that I did get wine later in the day because Baby Girl and I ventured out to help my sister-in-law make lefse. Let it also be noted that I realize — now — that just using a different recipe would have made the most sense. In my defense, it was 5:30 in the morning.