Dom Perignon wis zee Nachos

I have a wine refrigerator in the laundry room.  It sits there and quietly hums, keeping my white and sparkling wine at the optimum temperature.  It is often stacked with baskets of clean laundry or nearly hidden by mounds of dirty piles of it on the floor.  

The reason I mention this is that my husband and I think it might be possessed.  Or perhaps we are haunted by a sommelier.  Either way, it’s odd.

Every time I turn around the light is on.  There is a little switch in the top left corner and no matter how often I put the switch in the off position, by the next time I pass the laundry room, the tinted glow of the light bulb will be illuminated through the glass door.

Now some might suggest that this is The Bandit’s doing.  I’m sure it’s possible.  But that begs the question, “Just exactly how many times a day must that boy go into the laundry room?”  I almost want to set up a nanny-cam to do a accurate accounting.  The boy or the ghost, who ever it is, never messes with the bottles.  There are never bottles missing or new bottles that are unaccounted for.  It’s only the light switch. 

On.  Off.  On.  Off. 

I’ll admit it’s probably the boy, but I find the idea of a haunted sommelier so much more romantic and interesting, don’t you?  I can almost see him dressed in his black suit, white linen towel over his forearm, an impressive leather bound book in his other hand.  He’ll have a Tastevin around his neck and a very gentle and unpretentious French accent.  I’ve decided to name him Guillaume (because Pierre was too cliche).

I don’t know why Guillaume is being punished in the after life.  I can’t imagine it’s very satisfying recommending wines that go with Doritos or beef jerky.

However, I do know that a nice Merlot is the way to go with a Double Chocolate Fudge Cupcake.