Drinks?

My grandmother used these goblets (they're not "glasses" damnit) while I was growing up.

Between my Papa and I, they have all been broken except for one- which I keep wrapped up in a special box in the garage. I had two, but when the second to the last one broke, my heart just couldn't take watching the last one go. So it got packed away along with all my other life's memrobelia thats too precious to cope with losing.

That is, of course, until my mother decided it was finally time to give in to my begs and drop way too many $10's on these sexy baby blues.

I'm so excited.

Retail therapy is fucking pathetic.