For A Good Time Call...

Someone sent us six bottles of wine. I think it was me. Seymour doesn't want to stack them on the counter; he thinks that anything over that which fits in our teeny wine rack should be banished to the garage. I am wiser, and know that it would be much more effective, not to mention salubrious, to simply drink all the excess wine. That's going to be some playgroup on Monday.