Last night, around 6.30pm the phone rang...it was my father in law.
"Hello, we've got some friends coming round for dinner, do you have a bottle of white wine we could borrow"?
My in-laws live a couple of hundred metres away (my fault, the mayor told me that they were going to put the old school up for sale and the rest, as they say, is history). It's actually quite delightful having them so close and we see them most days, if only for a coffee and quick chat.
Turns out though that a "bottle of white" was actually three bottles of my good stuff.... but here's the punch line:
"I'm just about to jump in the shower - you couldn't pop down and put them in the fridge could you old chap"?
Have to hand it to him, he's got style my beau pere.
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