"Wanna go lay on the quilt and throw the ball for Dora?" he says after we've stuffed ourselves silly.
"Sure," I say. "Let me refill my wine."
...the beer. And where does the wine go? Sideways. On my lap. Lovely.
At least it was white wine (indeed, the wine mentioned in my previous post). As Wayne laughed, and my legs got cold, I said, "The things I do for you, Wayne, to keep you amused...The things I do."
Happy birthday, dear!