By the time the cake was laid out, my sister's twins had already cut a deal: one got to eat the teddy bear; one would devour the miniature baby, head first:
It was technically a chocolate biscuit cake, except the biscuits were replaced by crushed maltesers. What's that? Why yes, eating a slice did simulate the classic symptoms of a heart attack...
Mom's headed back to Dublin, sigh. We took part in the drama pub quiz last Thursday, which was great craic. One of the rounds opened with:
1) How many daughters did King Lear have?
2) What are the ingredients of a screwdriver?
Me. In my element. Right there. I mean, the questions moved on to sport and current affairs, but for that moment...
No comments:
Post a Comment