Families, the TB's and mine, still cause endless rows, hilarity and our most rock solid "it's them or us" moments.
The TB's old man liked a drink, so much so that his liver packed in and he died aged 62.
So I do get a bit nervous when the old "corporate entertaining" round takes the TB out on the beer once to often;
me : "Don't drink too much beer will you. You can't take it."
(Now that was a red rag to a bull)
him: "Whaddya mean I can't take it"
me : "Well, (trying to backpedal and failing) it's a bit of a weakness in your genetic makeup"
him :"Still don't know whadya saying"
me : "Well, you know, your Dad, drink, bit of a problem"
him : "My Dad wasn't an alcoholic, he just liked the taste"
Followers
Listening to/reading/watching
- Spooks, Heroes and Little Dorrit
- The Ascent of Money
- Fountains of Wayne, Dusty Springfield, Nickleback, Talking Heads
Cluster Map
Monday, February 04, 2008
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2 comments:
My older brother went the same way. Admitted on Monday, told on Wednesday, "Your test results have come back and it's bad news I'm afraid."
Brother, "My livers fucked?"
Doctor, "Well, yes."
Dead by Friday.
It's a horrible thing to say but he was probably lucky - TB's dad went the long drawn out, way, couldn't walk, couldn't see, it was horrible.
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