Remember when we were all told that questioning anything about Ilhan Omar’s personal life was racist, Islamophobic, and probably a few other words ending in “-ist” or “-phobic”? Yeah, well, her husband’s wine company just got officially dissolved amid scrutiny, and we have questions that have nothing to do with anyone’s religion and everything to do with basic math.

A wine company. Owned by the husband of a Muslim congresswoman. You truly cannot parody these people — they do it for you, free of charge.

Let’s back up. Omar’s husband, Tim Mynett — the political consultant she was famously accused of having an affair with while he was still married to someone else (which she denied, until she married him, which is a pretty creative way to deny something) — had a wine company. The company has now been officially dissolved.

Now, we’re not here to tell anyone what they can and can’t drink. This is America. Have some Cabernet, have some Bud Light — well, maybe not Bud Light anymore — do whatever you want. But when a congresswoman who has built her entire brand on being a devout representative of her faith community is married to a guy running a wine operation, you’d think maybe one reporter might raise an eyebrow.

Nope. Nothing. Crickets.

The dissolution comes amid ongoing scrutiny about the company’s operations and its connections to Omar’s political activities. And that’s where this gets fun. Because in the Omar household, everything seems to connect back to politics, and every connection seems to involve money flowing in directions that make ethics lawyers reach for the aspirin bottle.

Remember, this is the same Ilhan Omar who funneled millions in campaign cash to Mynett’s political consulting firm. At one point, her campaign was paying his firm more than $500,000. They were supposedly just business associates at the time. Then they got married. Totally normal stuff.

So the husband who was getting paid handsomely through her campaign’s consulting contracts also had a wine company on the side. And now that wine company is being dissolved “amid scrutiny.” Those two words — “amid scrutiny” — are doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence. Kind of like “amid scrutiny” is the journalistic equivalent of “right before the cops showed up.”

The timing is spectacular, too. Omar has been having a rough stretch. Between the “World War Eleven” flub that made her a punchline on every corner of the internet and now her husband’s business empire crumbling like a stale cracker, the brand is not doing well.

And what a brand it is. The Squad’s original firebrand — the one who told us we needed to “reimagine” policing while her district burned, who dismissed 9/11 as “some people did something,” who has been investigated and fined for campaign finance violations — is watching her household’s side ventures collapse in real time.

But don’t worry. The media will make sure you don’t hear about this. Because covering Ilhan Omar’s financial entanglements with the same energy they covered, say, any random Republican’s stock trades would be — say it with us — Islamophobic.

That’s always been the shield, hasn’t it? Every time someone asks a legitimate question about where the money goes in the Omar orbit, the response isn’t an answer. It’s an accusation. You’re a bigot for asking. You’re trafficking in hate. You’re targeting a woman of color. Meanwhile, the wine company gets dissolved, the consulting payments keep flowing, and everyone in Minneapolis is supposed to just clap and smile.

Pop quiz: If a Republican congressman’s spouse ran a business that got dissolved “amid scrutiny” while that congressman was already under investigation for campaign finance violations, how many seconds would it take CNN to run a prime-time special? Twelve? Maybe fifteen?

But Omar gets the special treatment. She always has. She’s the living embodiment of the progressive protection racket — say the right things about Palestine, defunding the police, and abolishing ICE, and you get a permanent shield from accountability. Your husband can run whatever businesses he wants, your campaign can pay whatever firms it wants, and if anyone asks questions, you just call them a racist and move on to the next fundraiser.

Well, the wine company is corked — permanently. And no amount of crying “Islamophobia” is going to un-dissolve it. Whatever was going on with that business is now a matter of public record, and “amid scrutiny” means somebody is looking.

We’d pour one out in honor of the dearly departed wine venture, but honestly, we never got to try it. Something tells us it paired best with campaign finance violations and a side of chutzpah.