Briohny and I play a game called "Sommelier" over dinner. The rules are straightforward:
1. Buy cheap wine.
2. Put it in a brown bag and don't read the label.
3. Put Posy to sleep
4. Drink, and guess how the wine is described by the label.
The game was supposed to be fun because we would pretend to be haughty, get it horribly wrong, and laugh at ourselves.
Truth, though: Briohny *kills* at this game. I kid you not, this just happened:
B: I smell passion-fruit.
M: I dunno. It's fresh. It's like a forest. Like a forest floor!
B: No way forest floor. Cleaner than that. It's refreshing. It's like fresh grass.
B: Also, it tastes like lemon maybe? Zingy, like lemon.
The label reads: "Spring water fresh. Cold wet stones. Cut grass. Passion fruit sorbet. Lemon delicious. Refreshing. Clean."
I married some sort of olfactory savant.