bad parenting, worse fashion

  
I was cleaning out some cookbooks which I never used. They were from a period of time when I thought I was a vegetarian and could cook like one. But deep in the archives of Mona’s Temporary Diet Because It Sounded Nice Presidential Library, I found a tin with an empty bottle of Crown Royal and the purple bag. I am the only one who drinks in this house and it’s been years since I’ve had whiskey. 
What was Past Mo doing, hoarding liquor bottles because they might have some resale value in the post-apocalyptic world where instead of currency, we pay for goods in empty liters of Malibu Rum, Apple Pucker, and other low shelf cocktails I would drink because I have the palette of a college coed who just turned 21 but really likes candy.  
I would like a sandwich sir, I have this empty jug of gas station Chablis. Yes, I’ll need change.

  
I also found a mini-Maker’s Mark santa cap that is supposed to go on the bottle and not what TJ suggested when it was too small to fit on his head: Is this for babies? Are babies going to wear this? Yes, if they want to cry out for help that they need new parents. TJ tried to wear it but I told him no. It doesn’t go well with the Virginia Slims sweater vest I bought him for Christmas. I have to have some standards.

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