Red Wine Whiskey and White Panties

Aunt Vi was best known for her big heart, in the poetic sense. She had so many friends; and relatives would come to see her from one coast to the other. Her parties were true middle class affairs, with drinking, laughing, card playing, story telling, eating, drinking, drinking---Aunt Vi could throw 'em back with the best men. The kitchen table would be covered with liqioour and glasses. Highballs were her favorite, but a shot of whiskey a day was her daily constitution.

Eventually, the kids would want to try and she obliged if she could get away with it. No worries about drunk driving, we were under ten. I begged to try a shot of whiskey. My mom said, "NO," Ivah said, "No," Aunt Vi said, "Don't tell anyone," and poured me a shot.

Of course, I thought I was going to die and next time I asked for some wine. Again, against real grown-up's wishes, Aunt Vi poured me a small glass of red wine. One sip and I knew I'd made a mistake, but I just couldn't let her know that I didn't like the drink again. So, I did the only sensible thing---I poured the wine in a pair of Aunt Vi's white under pants and shoved them way back in her dresser drawer.

It was a drawer on the lowest level of a beautiful maple (I think it was maple...) bed set she bought with a matching headboard and end tables. It was a drawer just for me, my toys, pajamas for when I slept over and so on. There stayed the stained panties for many months.

My concern about being found out was great. It weighed heavy on my mind. What would happen when she found out? Well, one day they were gone. Simply disappeared and not a word was ever spoken about it. Matter of fact this is the first time I have shared this story.

Who found them? What did they think? I'll never know. And I never drank red wine again. Or a shot of whiskey.