I opened a bottle of wine last night. A sparkling pink Pinot Grigio (‘blush’ they called it which sets my teeth on edge somewhat, except that it was a very pale pink and so I can see that they have a faint justification). I asked the chaps if they would like some.
The Sage occasionally does, but often drinks cider. Ro doesn’t drink much, and when he does, it might be wine or lager. But everyone cheers up at the thought of a sparkle, even if they were perfectly happy before. So they both said yes.
By the time I’d cooked dinner I was ready for a refill. Offered the bottle around. Both said no.
Please and thank you can be assumed, as you know we are nothing if not polite.
So I said “oh, you mean I’m going to have to finish the bottle then.”
“Well,” said the cheeky 22-year-old whippersnapper Ro “no one says you have to.”
Later, I waved the bottle again. “Sure you don’t want any more?” “Yeah, okay,” said Ro, with a challenging look.
I went away for less than a week. He has become entirely cheeky. I am the butt of all jokes again. Even beloved daughter was in on the act, pretending to agree with me after losing an argument (just a difference of opinion, not a quarrel) so that she could save face. Hah! She couldn’t win, so she had to lose while pretending to humour me.
I’m out again tonight. The last Snape prom concert I’m going to this year. One of the more unusual, furthermore. It’s the Tibetan monks of Tashi Lhunpo and I don’t know quite what to expect.
I’m going with a gentleman friend…………
ps. Now it’s hailing. And thundering and lightninging. I put washing on the line when it was sunny. Don’t you love an English summer? I expected nothing less, it is August Bank Holiday after all.