The Winemaker.

When I walked into Joe and Dot’s house this week, I was carrying 2 bottles of cranberry wine that I had purchased for them during last week’s trip home to Seattle.  Joe and Dot love wine, and I knew that it would be perfect to serve at their son’s house for Thanksgiving dinner this year.

Of course when I walked in, Joe greeted me by turning to Dot and asking her:  “Who’s that girl?”

Dot:  “Her name is Whitney, she’s here to take care of us.”

Joe:  “I don’t need anyone to take care of me!”

Dot:  “Well, she’s also going to cook for us.”

Joe:  “She’s gonna cook?”

Dot:  “Yes, and she’s an excellent cook!”

Joe:  “She IS?  Well, how the hell do you know that?”

Dot:  “Because she’s cooked her before.”

Joe looked at me suspiciously:  “SHE HAS?!”

Me:  “Yep. Lots of times.”

Joe:  “But isn’t she the Wine Lady?”

Dot:  “No, her name is WHITNEY!”

Joe:  “Oh okay.  Whitney, the Winemaker.”

Me:  “Well, I didn’t actually make this wine, Joe.  I just bought it at the winery.”

Joe:  “So the Winemakers sent you?”

Dot rolled her eyes.  I just smiled and said, “Yep, the Winemakers sent me.”

Joe:  “Oh okay, why didn’t you say so in the first place?  I’d never turn away a Winemaker!”

For the rest of the week Joe referred to me as the “The Wine Lady” and I just went with it.  It is kind of catchy:  “Whitney, the Winemaker”.

Perhaps I missed my calling…

 

2 thoughts on “The Winemaker.

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