July 20th

As soon as I found out Susana was pregnant I did what any self-respecting, compassionate, sensitive 21st Century man would do: I told Susana as long as she couldn't drink neither would I.  Five minutes later, I said what every man would say after making such a decision.

"WTF???"

Ah, yes, alcohol: turning your "S"s into "Esh"s since 5,700 B.C.  Our clear, potent friend that makes bar patrons look better and arguments about sports stats actually seem like righteous endeavors.  Yes, we're on the wagon, folks.  Our days of white wine with fish, a shot of chocolate wine as a dessert drink,homemade fruity sangria to congregate with friends when we throw one of our awesome movie parties or just cozying up on the couch together to watch TV while downing a brewsky are on hold and boy do we miss it.  Not the taste, of course, because alcohol technically tastes like you're licking a hospital scalpel.  No, it's the sharpness, the warmth, the social networking of drinking.

It's so ironic that the time you could most use a drink is when you can't have one.  Please excuse me while I search the Internet for a voodoo curse to use on the bastard who decided pregnant women can't have a glass of wine anymore.