I am, therefore I drink – Chapter 1

Picture the scene. Parents of teenage children know this all too well. You sit with your daughter (or son for that matter, I have plenty of each), wanting to engage them in conversation. They may know what the latest Kardashian is doing. I do not.

I am aware of what the latest government policy towards a particular issue may be. They are not. They are on social media. I certainly am not. Through uncomfortable silence while sitting one afternoon, just the two of us, my daughter glances at her phone, aching for a distraction. Then it happens. Ping. A message from an unlikely source. Her mother – “What do you want from life?” Rather deep from the current Mrs Mitchell to say the least. My daughter was more shocked than I. We looked at each other quizzingly.

What ensued was mesmerizing. We chatted about her goals, career, boyfriend, boarding school highlights and low points and what next. I opened a bottle of Sarget de Gruaud Larose 2005.

The wine is drinking outstanding as a left bank Claret does from 2005. I had to rush it for the first glass, as the moment of top conversation, which should accompany such a wine was in danger of being too brief. It needed time to breathe, for which I am pleased to say it was respected. But what if another text landed, would she move off topic, clam up and worse, go out as the delightful boyfriend maybe on his way? We both enjoyed the first glass and gladly the conversation continued to the second in good time.

What is the meaning of life? To what does an 18-year-old girl aspire? This is not our first discussion on the topic, but rarely does it flow. What does happiness mean and how is it measured. Healthy and successful yes, but what benchmark. Respectfully, she points out that in “my day” women had different benchmarks. Her grandfather certainly did for me. Military officer, finance man, then married. Plans all laid out. What do I want for her? I explained my views. She listens. We agreed. The wine tasted fantastic, and then, it happened.
The text came in, my heart sank. It was her mother again. “Sorry, predicative text. What do you want from Lidl?”. So, there you go. From the strangest sources can come the best moments. Try the wine. It is fantastic.