second glass of wine

I don't usually drink wine. But it was all that was available here. It's not bad, it's some sweet red Spanish wine my sister discovered at Whole Foods around Thanksgiving. Which is ironic because she never drinks, never allowed herself to get accustomed to alcohol. So I think she got it for me, and for that I love her.

To a lesser extent she got it for her husband, though he rarely drinks nowadays anyway, he's a lightweight. In fact last night, Christmas Eve, he got totally fucked up from the wine. He and I were working in the kitchen preparing for the important dinner, and I suggested he open up that bottle of rose his wife bought, and we can sip it while we cook. Before I knew it he poured me a full glass, and one for himself. It was one of those bigger bottles of standard table wines, what you usually drink with your pasta at home on an odd weeknight. We continued cooking, I was being economical with my drinking because I needed to focus on the recipes. He was not so economical, even though he himself was working on his dishes.

I was then half done with my glass, and he was then on his second. A brief while later he was chasing my sister around the kitchen, grabbing her ass and making the moves on her while she tried to elude him, verbally and otherwise. The kids were howling. I had put on some Edith Piaf to cook to, as I wanted something festive but not stereotypically Christmas-y. Ef (my brother-in-law) continued to drink while cooking, and stealing moments to harass his wife while she tried to set the dining room table for the feast. Riz, my 6-year-old nephew, was allowed one little sip of the rose, and from that he claimed that he was totally drunk and proceeded to dance like a stripper in front of his sister Sureyya, who kept squealing "EIW!" and laughing at the same time. It was simply a madhouse. At one point Ef, by this time perfectly inebriated, made a pass at me and I screamed bloody murder and ran out the kitchen in the middle of stirring my pot of French onion soup. Sureyya was howling on the floor watching.

By the time dinner was all ready, Ef was on the dining room floor, unable to get up to take his seat, and Teresa (his wife) was pissed. She said something along the lines of "Fuck it, we're eating" and we started the dinner. It was then than Ef, after practically killing off the entire economy sized bottle of rose, finally got sick and promptly sat up on the floor and shoved his head in the kitchen garbage can and puked. Teresa, Riz, and Sureyya all at the same time: "EIW!!!" I shouted, "Where's the damn camera?!!", found it, and began to snap pictures of him with his face in the can. It was exquisite, I should win the Pulitzer Prize for best journalistic documentation of embarrassing brother-in-law Christmas Eve picture. It certainly made this one of the most memorable Christmases I've ever had. Shortly after Ef threw up a second time into the kitchen trash. And he pretty much stayed knocked out on the floor after that, up until midnight when we opened our gifts. We had to put a blanket on him and I took some more pictures. Silent night, holy fucking night....