Sunday, 24 February 2013

The story of the Beers in our Apartment




Sometimes I think that maybe my husband is not “playing with a full deck”. I am not for a moment suggesting that he is stark raving mad or sinisterly psychotic. But he is just not with the rest of us really. Let me recount two recent incidents. Well two and a half really and the half is telling -maybe.

Yesterday was a Saturday. You may remember how I get up at four a.m. in the morning to do my Greek homework on a Saturday, fairly regularly, and yesterday was no exception. By eight I was home-worked out and getting ready to face the day. Bryan was awake. Wonder of wonders and sitting up in bed reading Facebook status updates. Someone, probably one of my cousins, had posted a comment about being in bed reading with a cup of coffee. Bryan made a remark in a sighing, plaintive, pitiful breath, about how he would love to be doing the same thing but “no-one…” imagine a heavy sigh and hang-dog expression “…had made him coffee”. A sane person would not have said that. A sane person would have kept very quiet.  I am just saying…

The next happening was this evening. I was SLAVING in the kitchen making supper. Let me qualify something here for the sake of honesty and full disclosure. I have not cooked much recently  what with Frances the amazing cook visiting and us all going out a fair bit and also my not being all that hungry in the evenings recently so having tea and toast for supper…..  Anyway back to the guilty slaving over dinner. Bryan was “going to watch Rugby because it is SUNDAY”. He rummaged around in the fridge looking for beer. Like you have to track the contents of a fridge……. And found a lone beer. Astonished he asked “Where have all the beers gone??” Now, of the two people who live in our apartment, only one of us drinks beer and it is not me. I pointed out to him that if he does not restock the fridge there won’t be any beers in the fridge. “But” says Bryan, “Where did all the beers go that were in the fridge?” I could only conclude that perhaps when I open the fridge door the beers grab the opportunity to roll out of the fridge and somehow drag themselves to the front door were they hide (quivering with excitement and a bit of fear) waiting for the door to be opened so that they can make a break from the tyranny of our household and off to the freedom of - I have no idea where.  A sane person would not ask “where have all the beers gone” now would they? Bryan also wanted to know “where the biltong was?” There was none so he grabbed a handful of heart shaped chocolates instead -a parting gift from Frances. I presume because somehow in his special world chocolate and beer go together.

I love him dearly but really there are Heavenly Angels out there with more self-preservation than he has. And I ask you chocolate with beer????????
 
 
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