Sunday night. After a long afternoon of football watching and beer drinking, topped off by oven-fried chicken with mashed potatoes, and kale with onions & bacon, my dear sweet husband has fallen asleep on the sofa with the dog.
He has also made the grievous error of leaving a full glass of delicious, cold Chardonnay on the table nearly untouched.
Am I going to drink my poor, sleeping husband's (clearly abandoned) glass of wine while he's asleep? Oh yes I am.
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1 comment:
Paula, is that you writing? 'Cause it sure sounds like you...
(you two are birds of a feather sometime, Boit)
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