Over the last few years, our crappy assortment of stemware has slowly dwindled, broken glass by broken glass. I just returned from the grocery store with a bottle of Blanc de Noirs, in an attempt to, um, amend my pissy mood and, uh, close the romance gap that lies between my amorous husband and myself. Climbing up to the cupboard, I hauled my last wine glass down from the top shelf and took one look at the silly thing, before putting it back on the shelf and grabbing a juice glass. My husband grabbed his favorite coffee mug, and we popped the cork and clanked glasses.

Cheers!