Next time, she'll stick to day-old Kool-Aid

linch

Are We There Yet?

Lori C When I got the call that cousin Mary Ann was bringing her family and coming for a visit, I hung up the phone and broke into a dead run.

I knew I'd have to dust this, polish that and make vast preparations. Windows would have to be cleaned, sheets would have to be changed and the rooms made ready to shine. I took the dust off my cobwebs, cleaned the bathrooms to a shimmer and, just for that extra touch of class, I changed the furnace filters.

Mary Ann is a special guest and I was, by gum, gonna impress the socks off her with a clean house.

I organized extravagant meals, washed the fine china and borrowed matching silverware from my mother. Then I called up my good friend, Louise, the queen of home entertaining, and asked for advice. Louise gave me tips on proper etiquette, advice on linens, and then she told me the importance of picking out a good wine.

I've never been much of a wine person. I've never studied the books, smelled the corks, or understood the reasoning behind swirling a glass while I held it up to the light, taking a sip as I went on with adjectives such as bouquet or woodsy. Quite frankly, I don't know a Chateau d'Yquem from a bottle of Boonesberry Farm.

But Louise does - and she assured me that any hostess worth her salt would take the time to pick out a good vintage.

Sporting a few dust bunnies, a hankie and a pair of bad shoes, I stood in the wine section at Sticker Liquors and pondered my choices. I looked at this, studied that and realized that I couldn't tell a vintage from a glass of day-old Kool-Aid. I watched other customers in hopes of learning from their choices. But after several fine folks made their selections and left the area, the only little tip that I'd picked up was that they weren't squeezing the bottle to learn about freshness.

Then I saw a well-dressed woman approach. "Pardon me," I said as I sidled up alongside her. "I have a boatload of people coming for the weekend who drink wine, and I was wondering if you think I should consider this here Shaaablis brand or go straight for the Muuurrr-lot."

"Excuse me?" she replied, with her wine-snob attitude all intact.

"Well," I continued with a drawl that I hadn't even meant to use, "Ma couzin likes wine and I thought I might git 'er some. Now what would you recommend - this here Shablis or a Mur-lot?"

"You might want to consider the boxed wine," she snorted as she pushed the crate my way.

Well! You can only imagine my surprise when I realized that I could entertain for an entire evening for a mere $10.99!

"Honey," I said to my husband later as I prepared for the night, "I bought an entire box of wine for your family's visit this weekend."

"Good heavens, woman!" he replied, and I noticed that all of a sudden he was speaking with a drawl as well. "We can't afford that kind of liquor!"

"That's what I thought, but then I learned that I could buy the whole box for $10.99."

Imagine Mary Ann's first impression when she walked into a clean home. Picture, if you will, how impressed she must have been when she saw the dusted foyer, the decorated mantel and the freshly adorned niches.

"Shall we gather in the hearth room for a drink?" I asked Mary Ann and her family in my best sophisticated tone.

With classical music playing in the background, and a five-mile smile, I then headed to the fridge to extract the box of wine. I plunked it on the counter, ripped open the side and proceeded to tug on the bladder in hopes of finding the spout.

Once I located the plastic nozzle, I began to yank at the cap.

"Get your mother her pliers," my husband said to one of the kids as he watched me struggle.

"I couldn't find the pliers," said my little dear as he returned to the room, "but will these plumber's pumpers do the trick?"

"Stand back, woman," said my husband as he approached the box with a tool that was about a foot in length. With a couple of quick turns, he pulled at the spout, freed the cap and before we knew it the wine was flowing freely and we were able to fill the plastic glasses with ease.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Louise as she opened the fridge later in the week. "What are you doing with that box of wine?"

"I bought that for Mary Ann's visit," I replied.

"Tell me that you did not serve boxed wine to that classy woman!"

"Is that bad?"

"Honey, any beverage that you can serve from a bladder is bad."

Next time I'm so serving day-old Kool-Aid.

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch.com.