So, if given a truth serum you would come to find that I never expected to be pregnant. Due to some pesky fibroids that think my uterus is a warm cozy place to rest, and the fact that Father Time was having a hay-day with me...I just didn't see it happening. And I was okay with that - not initially of course but eventually it was like "hey - I can have martini's anytime I want - you have a child curfew...HA!"
Then, as if the Gods of fate and irony teamed up against me, I found out I was pregnant after a night of downing many, many (many) martini's.I laughed hysterically in disbelief. Called a girlfriend and she laughed hysterically in disbelief. And then I told my boyfriend. And he drank. Outrageously. In disbelief.
So this was it. I was prego. But I refused to let go of my Martini days forever...they were just temporarily on hold. And I was okay with that. I had to share my body for nine months and give up a certain level of freedom once the little one arrived...and I could concede to that. But give up my signature drink?? The drink that not only once led to me being carried out of a bar (oh don't act like it's never happened to you...), but also was the starter of the conversation that led me to the love of my life - give it up??? You'd have a better chance getting Dolly Parton to admit that more than just her hair is fake. I wasn't giving up my cosmo's.....no way, no how, don't even ask.
However, it seems like once again the Gods of fate and irony have stepped in and decided to have their way with me. Last night was my first night out with my girlfriend since I had the body snatcher - er - i mean baby. I was so excited because there was finally going to be a reunion between my lips and that sweet martini glass I missed so much. When the waitress brought it out to me I swear you could hear trumpets playing - it was truly a moment worth savoring. I eyeballed it with eager anticipation and then took the first sip like it was the first kiss with a lover I hadn't seen in years.
And then I spit the damn thing out.
SON OF A BITCH!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT??? It tasted nothing like what I remembered it to taste like...whatever they were trying to pass off on Mama Martini was ass-water. So I sent it back and tried a different, supposedly equally yummy martini. The waitress waited by the table as I took the first sip, waiting nervously, eyes glazed over in anticipation, hoping to get a big thumbs up. Poor girl. What she got was a look that said "F you". And I didn't feel bad for it either - until I remembered something about my pregnancy. While I was pregnant my tastebuds changed. Things I once loved, I would have traded in for a plate of dirt and a spoon. And the one thing you CAN drink while you are round, red wine, became incredibly bitter and disgusting to me. And so as Captain Fate and Captain Irony teamed up to become Captain Kick My Ass, I mourned the loss of my dear friend - the martini. We had many a good night, and plenty of great ones. It led me to the love of my life, which led me to an even greater love - the love of and for my daughter.
However, as the late, great King of Pop said....gone too soon. I shall miss you dearly, Cosmo.