Do I have something in my teeth?

I have a new category of posts I'd like to start exploring called "Things I Don't Get". These posts will discuss the, I feel, undeserved, ubiquity and popularity of things I find ridiculous, or at the very least, overrated. Because I know you are all dying for my opinion on all things. Clearly. Many of you will disagree with some of the things I discuss and I welcome that. For example, my Madonna post generated some serious feedback (you are all wrong, by the way) and I love nothing more than hearing from my readers.

So let's begin.

This weekend Hubby and I were out for the evening, having secured a babysitter at the last minute and we started our night off at a local watering hole for the first of many drinks (the proportionality between how badly you need a drink and how hungover you get from small amounts of alcohol as a mother of three is staggeringly unfair). I ordered my usual white wine and Hubby had a mojito.

I do not get mojitos.

Yes, mojitos are cool because they require all that muddling and mixing and special ingredients, but I think they taste like watered down Scope. And all those mint leaves. If I want a salad I will eat one, not drink one. And don't argue with me that the leaves don't bother you as I watched H pick foliage out of his mouth despite using the little swizzle straw to drink it. Which brings me to another point - I can't believe American men want to drink them. It's a real turn-on as my husband uses his big, monkey hands (seriously, mitts would be a better word for them) to pinch this tiny, little straw and take dainty sips. Where's your purse, Nancy? I can see how young women find it sexy to drink mojitos (they're Latin!) and they can look all coy and cute sipping away, but I just picture some poor, twenty-two year old flush from his first real job ordering one of these in a New York City bar trying to impress some girl who works in PR, looking slightly gay drinking out of the straw, then grinning at the girl exposing a grill covered in little green bits. Sex-say.

I'm sure the time of the mojito will pass, or has passed already since I am so out of the loop here in suburbia (where did these skinny jeans come from anyway?), just as it did for dirty martinis and cosmopolitans. Until then I will wait it out and spend the better part of my evening telling H, "No, it's next to the other tooth. No. There. Gah! Just go to the bathroom and look!"