What Happens When I'm Gone

One of my favorite things to do when I get back from a trip is to try to piece together what Dean did while I was gone. It's not at all that I don't trust him. I trust him as much as one person can trust another. I am by nature a very curious person, as is reflected by my choice of profession. So I often wonder what he does without me there.
I was especially curious the day after I got back when I noticed a dirty wine glass in the sink. Firstly, I am always careful not to leave any nice glasses dirty while I'm gone for fear that Dean will put them in the dishwasher, which is why I immediately noticed this anomaly. Secondly Dean will enjoy a glass of wine with me if I pick out a bottle, but I just couldn't imagine him going in to the liquor store, passing up the Budweiser in favor of a bottle of red wine.

"Deano," I called, "Did you have a bottle of wine while I was away?"

"Nope."

"Huh."

"Huh, what?"

"Well, I was pretty sure I didn't leave any dirty wine glasses, but I must be mistaken."

That was the end of it. Until last night. I was cooking up a batch of my Dad's infamous goulash. I had browned the meat, onions and garlic, chopped the peppers, opened the cans of tomatoes and sauce (I'm not revealing the secret ingredients) and was reaching on top of the fridge for the cooking wine. It wasn't there. Suddenly I remembered the rogue wine glass and it all came together. Dean drank my cooking wine while I was out of town. I was alternately laughing hysterically and furious because I was not about to make this meal without cooking wine. I called him on his cell phone while he was still at work and left a message.

"Dean, give me a call when you leave work. I need you to stop at the store for me on the way home."

Finally I became antsy enough to turn off the stove and drive to 7-11 to pay way too much for a crappy bottle of red wine. On the way home Dean called back.

"What do we need?"

"Cooking wine."

Silence.

"Somebody drank mine."

"It wasn't me."

"Oh, really? Then who was it? One of the kitties?"

"Okay, it was me. I drank the cooking wine."

"How come when I asked if you had a bottle of wine when I was gone you said 'no'?"

"Because I didn't have a bottle of wine. I had a glass and a half of the wine on the fridge, decided it was skanky [as it should be; it was sitting there uncorked for two months] and threw the rest out so you wouldn't try to drink some."

He's so thoughtful.