It’s Christmas Eve and I finish work at 12.45. L is in transit from Stoke from where she has retrieved Son who’s been celebrating his girlfriend’s birthday.
Once she’s back in Nottingham I get the bus back over and we meet in town. We head to Brewdog for an assortment of their strong ales, although even we baulk at the 18.2% Tokyo Stout. It’s pleasant in there and I could have continued to work my way along the bar, slowly e.g. a third of a pint at a time, but we are tempted across town to the Roebuck by Daughter and her friends.
It’s our round naturally but £10 for two pitchers of basically coke with a dash of vodka isn’t too financially taxing and they’re good fun to hang out with for a few hours. The fact they also have the Honey Milk Stout that we had at the Ropewalk the other week helps.
We make it home and order a festive Chinese takeaway. I also, drunkenly, make the stuffing for tomorrow and a Stilton, mushroom, brandy, garlic and chilli pate, which will be the starter. I think I only put chilli in the pate and not in the stuffing. I hope. My Mum will soon tell me tomorrow if not.
We decide to continue our tradition, usually though when the kids aren’t there, of opening our presents at midnight. This will enable Son to have his usual epic lie-in and avoid too much exposure to daylight tomorrow.
It actually becomes difficult to stay awake though, the perils of afternoon drinking, so we go to bed for an hour or so and then get up again.
(Monday 24th December)
True crafties don’t drink halves
9 hours ago