Why Do Mums Drink Prosecco?

Anniki Sommerville - 20 Jun 16

Last Saturday there was a mini-festival in our local park. There was a jubilant atmosphere. The weather was much better than expected. There were lots of parents making the most of daytime drinking. There was music. Food stands. It felt a bit like an easier version of Glastonbury (without the famous bands, crowds, kudos – okay actually it was nothing like it.)

The Dads sipped on their plastic beakers of craft beer and tapped their feet. They took it in turns with the Mums to race after the toddlers (who seemed hell bent on storming the stage). There were sandwiches. Tupperwares full of cucumber. Pom-bears and Mini cheddars. And prosecco – for the Mums of course.

‘She goes running for the shelter of a mother’s little helper. And it helps her on her way, gets her through her busy day,’ Mick Jagger once sang cheerily in the classic Stones track ‘Mother’s Little Helper’. The song deals with the sudden popularity in the sixties of meprobamate, a mild tranquiliser, among housewives. Is prosecco the new meprobamate? Every Mum I know drinks the stuff. And the only Mums that don’t drink it are pregnant so temporarily off booze completely.

What happened before prosecco? Did Mums drink brandy? Whisky? Gin probably.

‘I’m not drinking today,’ I announced to my partner before we left, ‘I feel so much better when I don’t.’

‘Of course you will,’ he said wearily.

‘I won’t. I want to get up in the morning and feel fresh. I can’t deal with hangovers anymore.’

The thing is I’m gullible. If someone offers me something then I’m likely to give it a go. So if the gal next to me is drinking an ice cream Fanta float then I’m up for that. But equally if she’s guzzling prosecco, well I’m up for that too. As soon as we arrived one of my close friends swung by. Do you fancy a prosecco? I watched my daughter run towards the stage for the eleventh time (this time heading straight towards the dangerous looking electrical cables). Just one prosecco. Yes that was perfectly permissible. What kind of square goes to a festival and drinks water? In fact when was the last time I’d even drunk prosecco? (it’d been the previous weekend at a children’s party- the details were a little hazy though).

Prosecco is what Lionel Ritchie drinks when he ‘dances on the ceiling’. It’s a party in a bottle. It’s what Jay-Z would drink if he fell on hard times. It’s FUN! And it makes me feel silly. Too much of my time is spent being sensible – planning, worrying and thinking. And prosecco is weird. It actually takes A LOT to make me feel drunk. It’s a nice, warm happy feeling- like watching someone you love make you a cup of tea at the end of a long, hard day.

As I gazed across the field, each picnic blanket told the same story. A Mum with a happy smile on her face. A bottle of Prosecco (sometimes several) propped up –usually against a stylish nappy bag. Was there anything wrong with this scene? Apparently so many Mums are now drinking prosecco that supplies in the UK are running dangerously low. I sometimes think that it’s my friends in West London that are contributing to this drought. There is one local shop that purposefully overstocks because it knows its local demographic so well.

‘It’s like champagne but not as expensive,’ one friend said.

‘It’s fizzy so it doesn’t feel quite so strong’ another added.

‘It’s not like REAL drinking is it?’ a third slurred.

That night I fell into bed around ten. A couple of hours later I awoke with a pounding chest. My mouth was dry. I was filled with dread. Where was I? I tried desperately to recall the sequence of events. I cringed as I recalled falling over in the field on the way to taking my daughter to the loo. As I fell some prosecco accidentally fell into her hair. I brushed it off as quickly as possible and told myself to sober up. A couple of onlookers saw and laughed. I imagined the photo in the Daily Mail. I berated myself over and over as I tossed and turned. This would never happen again. What was this whole obsession about anyway? Mick Jagger had had a point. Prosecco was a dangerous drug and should be banned forthwith!

I resolved to never go near the dreaded stuff again.

Anniki Sommerville

I'm Super Editor here at SelfishMother.com and love reading all your fantastic posts and mulling over all the complexities of modern parenting. We have a fantastic and supportive community of writers here and I've learnt just how transformative and therapeutic writing can me. If you've had a bad day then write about it. If you've had a good day- do the same! You'll feel better just airing your thoughts and realising that no one has a master plan. I'm Mum to a daughter who's 3 and my passions are writing, reading and doing yoga (I love saying that but to be honest I'm no yogi).

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