The voice inside my head

The voice inside my head was chatting me up today at WalMart. I think it's because of the flu Boy #2 so graciously bestowed upon me two days before Christmas. Not completely over the sinus infection and no time to go back to the doctor, I left myself vulnerable. But I'm still letting Boy #2 take all the blame. So with my brain floating around in snot, gently bopping against the walls of my skull it misfired quite a bit up and down those WalMart aisles.
I will try to remember what it was saying as I arrived and was desperately trying to contain it:

"No bell ringer today, gonna miss him."

"Thank you for walking in the clearly marked exit door. The record of some moron walking in or out of the wrong door remains intact."

"I need to go to the pharmaceutical aisle first. Maybe I can find a magical cure for the flu or just knock myself out with Nyquil shots."

"I shouldn't have left the house alone. I feel like hell and I just got here."

"Seriously? The whole family has to do the grocery shopping? Mom, dad and 2.5 children? They clog up the whole aisle. What do children contribute to grocery shopping besides annoyance?"

"What bra did I wear today? Why do the straps keep sliding off my shoulders?"

"Move out of the way, move your cart, move it now. I'm going to ram into it, I swear I will."

"Is my tea on the very bottom self?"

"Note to self: buy nothing on the bottom self today because standing back up makes you dizzy."

"I have to blow my nose."

"I can't believe mom found this little bottle of lavender scented hand sanitizer, I love lavender."

"Get out of my way."

"If you stop and text in front of something I want I'm going to give you a heavy sigh."

"These effing bra straps."

"I'm probably going to faint. Why is it so hot in here?"

"I will not sample whatever it is you are cooking in your little toaster oven, it smells bad. I'm avoiding eye contact and walking right by you."

"You haven't seen each other in years? That's wonderful, but would you find somewhere else to catch up? Preferably somewhere I'm not. You are hindering my progress along with the people that insist on bringing their entire family with them."

"This bra is coming off as soon as I get home. If I ever get home. I might not ever get home."

"Put your cart on one side of the aisle. Pick left or right, not the middle. The middle is stupid and you know that."

"Finally. They are getting rid of these Christmas decorations and putting up the Valentine's Day stuff."

"Get out of my way, damn it."

That is basically how my first venture out of the house since Christmas day went. By the time I got home I needed a nap and a shot of Nyquil.

Here's what happened

I'm not a wine person. Everyone knows I have a weakness for orange juice laced with vodka. And now that they started putting fruity flavors in vodka a whole new world has opened up to me but I digress. Let me explain the wine bottle and the events that followed.
I was baking yesterday, applesauce cake. It's an old family recipe. Quite a few of our ancestors didn't bother to write their recipes down on a little recipe card, I suppose they just thought we would channel the ingredients and amount from the great beyond. My mom managed to get the 'Christmas Applesauce Cake' recipe from my grandma and most of it is clear. Except for the vague ingredient 'small glass of red wine'.
Year after year I make the said cake because mom gave up on it, she really doesn't like baking and throws rolling pins across the kitchen if she tries to make cut-out cookies. Every year I buy a bottle of cheap red wine with a screw off top. So you can imagine my surprise when I tore off the foil wrap on my cheap red wine and found a cork. The pursuit of a cork screw began.
One year the husband received a gift at work with a cork screw in it. It was in a lovely box and also had a bottle topper and a couple other things I have no idea what they are used for. I dusted off the box and grabbed the cork screw. There were several people in the house but I felt confident that I could screw that thing in the cork. Which I did. The problem, yes we finally got there, I couldn't pull the cork out. After about five minutes of swearing and being totally ignored by the people in the next room, I gave up.
I took the bottle to the husband and ask,
"Did I put this thing in right?"
Without speaking he took the bottle from me. I didn't want to give up the bottle because I knew he'd try to open it while sitting on my couch but it all happened so fast. While he inspected, I looked up at Boy #2 and Boy #3, who were putting up the Christmas tree and trying to get the amazing invention of a pre-lit Christmas tree to, you know, light up. That's when I heard the glass break.
"Give me the bottle before you spill cheap red wine on my couch."
"I have glass in my hand. There is a shard of glass in my hand. I need my glasses and a flashlight."
This is when the almost daughter-in-law slash nurse got up, grabbed his hand and took the shard of glass out before the husband could ask for a band aid.
"Give me the bottle before you spill cheap red wine on my couch."
I went back to the kitchen followed by the almost daughter-in-law slash nurse who told me,
"I'm a wine drinker now."
I responded,
"Really? Grandma and Aunt Erv are going to be so happy."
My mom and my sister-in-law are avid wine drinkers. That's why I took the picture of the mutilated cheap red wine bottle with a happy smiling snowman head, to ease their pain. So I asked the almost daughter-in-law slash nurse if she would like a glass of wine. I'm not going to dump the whole bottle into 'Christmas Applesauce Cake' it only needs a 'small glass of red wine', she said,
"Let me just taste it first."
As I turned to get a juice glass out of the cupboard I bumped into Boy #3 who asked,
"Can I have my very first taste of wine ever mom?"
We gave him a 'OMG you are only 20 years old' fake surprised look and I got two juice glasses. I poured them each a glass. They both decided they were wine connoisseurs, they held their juice glasses up and swished it around, brought them to their noses and smelled the wine, took a sip and spit the cheap red wine into my kitchen sink. My kitchen sink!
"Get the hell out of my kitchen. I'm stressed. Holiday stress has sunk in. Get your fathers credit card and order Sunday dinner, I'm not cooking for you people."