Then I pour two ounce portions into empty jam jars and hide them in a secret place behind a locked door. Then I hide the key. I can't tell you where. If I told you, I'd have to kill you.
When 5 o'clock comes around, I unlock the hidden stash and bring a jam jar down to the kitchen and pour the two ounces into a martini glass and serve it to my mother. She's living a mere shadow of her former martini-fueled life and she doesn't like it. But I'm rather fond of her not falling over.
Here's the recipe. Just in case you'd like to mix up some secret martinis. You can have more than two ounces if you want. But don't blame me if you fall down.
3 comments:
Doesn't sound like fun.
Think of it as medication dispensing.
For love, we do what we must. Hugs.
Post a Comment