So I’m at St Francis Bay on holiday with Liezl, the kids, my mother-in-law and Uncle Biscuit. Anyway we sit around the table to gobble down the lamb roast my mother-in-law has prepared, we give thanks and get down to the eating. So we’re chatting and I’m thinking, “mmm, I need some butter with these potatoes.”
I stand, head to the fridge, get the butter, return to the table and…
“That’s weird,” my mind says in a slightly confused tone. My glass of Dawson Dairy Chocolate Flavoured Low Fat Sweetened Drinking Yoghurt has been moved a bit to the right and, well more than that, someone’s definitely drunken from it.
As I look up at the suspects around the table in front of me it’s apparent who the guilty party is. Liezl has a mustache and an evil grin.
“Liezl,” I ask with an “Et tu, Brute?“ tone and my brow a bit furrowed, “what possessed you to drink from my glass? I mean, surely you could have poured your own?”
Liezl, looking up responds by saying, “I thought about that, but we’re married, why dirty another glass? We’re one.”
She gives me a sly smile, a kiss and polishes it off.
She uses the old Genesis 2:24 card far to liberally and far to often:
Family, marriage, holidays, stuff. Life’s good.