Back from a cold Tet with questionable food (such as boiled tongue and intestine, which always made me wonder what the hell happened to the rest of the pig) here's a double entry for Julia's Place, the Wednesday one and you bought her what.
Wednesday was always waffles. Waking early, we’d wend our wandering way, walking to Wally’s. Warmly welcomed (as always) we waited, while whistling wafted in with the mouthwatering scents. Watching for a wink or other sign of the present, I would listen to whispers of another time, way back in the past. Where there’s a will there’s a way they say, but Alzheimer's can sap your willingness - make you wish for what is fleeting, like a whimsical wisp of smoke writing wavering words. The rest of the world could wait. For the pair of us, Wednesday was always waffles.
As we’re cleaning up the empty bottles, we can’t help but spill the beans. The details from the original agreement are hazy due to a similar drinking session - we’re not sure if it was making her a mother-in-law or presenting her with a grandchild that got the guernsey, but through teaming up we’ve covered all bases. “Go check your credit card details, we put it on yours, of course!” Some tandem parachute tickets, as was suggested in jest at last year’s birthday. Dad can’t help sniggering - until we inform him that we got some for him as well.
We didn’t actually cross the line for this one before the timer (mum’s 70th) ran out. But we still threaten it from time to time.