Sometimes we fail to realize how important glassware is when you’re a beer nut. But then, also sometimes, we fail to realize how much your wife hates that you keep taking over cabinet space with your never-ending beer glass collection.
Today, I was forced to consolidate four cabinet shelves into two in the name of happy wife happy life. I kept my old standbys and my favorite new news, and the antique Hamms glasses from my Grandpa Herm, and the tall-ass glass I smuggled out of a bar in Moscow, and enough taster glasses to split a bomber evenly among 6 peeps, and four pairs of stout glasses for the upcoming stouts, sweatpants, and soup Sundays.
I’LL MISS THE REST OF YOU. SNIFF.