I recently went on a bus trip with a lot of women. The ladies’ trip is an annual event, a great get-away to do some shopping, gabbing and eat things we shouldn’t.
I like to sit at the front of the bus: I don’t like feeing carsick, and I get to see through the big window.
Maybe I have the “backseat driver” syndrome; periodically, I would read a map or directions to the driver.
For this group of unpredictable behaviorists, the only driver brave enough to take us is Ken Huffman.
We are kindred spirits.
Not only does he play golf with two of my brothers and could “rat” them out for their shenanigans, but we also love Mtn. Dew.
In fact, he may love it more than me, and that’s saying a lot.
A huge cooler is always available at the back of the bus for cute mini water bottles, juice, various sodas and our Mtn. Dews; we watched out for each other’s dew in the cooler.
(If you are a guest in my house, I permit you to have one of my Dews. If you frequently raid my refrigerator, you have to bring your own! Just ask my son’s college friends.).
Ken didn’t drink coffee.
Mtn. Dew kept him alert while he drove the bus, so if he needed my Dew, he got it.
One of our stops was to a winery tour and tasting.
Afterward, we had an opportunity to go to the gift shop.
I found an insulated cover for a wine glass called a “Woozie.”
It had an elastic band on the top and a drawstring on the bottom to make it easy to put it on and take it off.
It was a wonderful interpretation of a teapot cozy.
Then it dawned on me, my Mtn. Dew needed an insulated cover too.
Ken said he would buy one.
I told him that I would call it a “Dewzie," and it really would be.
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May all your Mtn. Dews be insulated.