Wine tastings are fun because it's just adults who've said, «F * # % it, I'm getting drunk at 11 a.m. I don't want to drink
a beer out of a paper bag on the corner, so I'm going to a place where it's okay.»
No, wait, don't sit at a vista point drinking warm
beer out of a paper bag and sighing loudly, this is just a hypothetical scenario.
Cooked bacon sandwiches for Sprogs» breakfast (to remove temptation from fridge for The Great Famine
of 2012); did grocery shopping; bought Husband six - pack
of beer for New Year's Eve party; bought chooks 25 kg
bag of scratch mix; staggered to car with 25 kg
bag of scratch mix; washed and hung
out two loads
of washing; filled recycling bin with empty bottles and cartons; baked eggshells to make grit for chooks; assembled wraps for Husband and Sprogs for lunch; baked banana bread to use up manky banana supplies; baked biscuits with Sprog 2, who doesn't like banana bread; shut back door 50 times to stop plague
of mozzies getting in; shut front door 20 times to stop plague
of mozzies getting in; killed lots
of mozzies; threw
out old magazines and newspapers; put crap away from recent car trip; cleaned chook shit
out of chook house; sorted three baskets
of clean laundry; unpacked and repacked diswasher; returned to supermarket for forgotten essentials: toilet
paper, broccoli, sparklers and last shot
of caffeine before The Great Famine
of 2012; cooked dinner; washed Sprogs» hair and painted Sprog 2's toenails rainbow colours for New Year's Eve party; copped grief from Husband for painting Sprog 2's toenails (some sexualisation nonsense); went to New Year's Eve Party; reluctantly abandoned third glass
of French champagne after being reminded
of designated driver status; drove Husband and Sprogs home from New Year's Eve party; took Unisom; collapsed in bed at 11.50 pm.