It’s Valentine’s Day and my wife tried to kill me. Again.

It’s not her fault. Really. I knew what I was marrying when I did it. I only have myself to blame.

My wife is one of the clumsiest people alive. I’m not sure clumsy is the right word, but she breaks 50% of everything she touches. It feels like it anyway.

I love her, I do, but she is the reason why we can’t have nice things. It’s absolutely true. She will tell you herself.

Seriously, I have specific things I own that I won’t let her use, or even touch for that matter, because I’m just tired of buying new stuff to replace everything she breaks. It doesn’t matter the scale either. Everything from phone charging cords to vehicles. Seriously, everything is at risk.

When we got married we went to a local winery and got several cases of wine with custom labels for our wedding. Our names and date and that kind of shit. We got 4 different types of wine and it was a huge hit. We gave many away as part of wedding party gifts and such.

We had several bottles left over after the wedding and decided that we would enjoy them together over the next year or so. As we finished them off we would save the last bottle of each type on our book shelf as a nice little nostalgia piece.

Tonight we were finishing the final bottle of merlot. I had already started a prior beverage so she had the first glass of wedding wine, then we split the remainder of the wine on round 2. As she finished pouring the final glass (hers) she hit the top of my glass shattering a significant portion of it. Glass and wine all over the table and floor.

Plus tiny shards of glass in my now broken wine glass.

Now, most people would just trash it, but no. Not me. It’s the last glass of wine from our wedding batch. So I transferred it to another glass (through a mesh filter) and if I die from internal bleeding she is just going to have to deal with that. Forever.

You make your own bed and now you sleep in it.

If this is my last post, you all know what happened.

Cheers.