It had to happen sooner or later.
Here I am, sleep- deprived, lumbering around like a zombie. The heat isn’t making it any better, neither is having to be up most hours trying to make a baby go back to sleep. I have bruises up and down my legs and arms from accidentally bashing into things. My spacial awareness is at an all time low.
I remember opening up the cupboard door and watching in slow motion as the glass that hadn’t been put back properly left the safety of the shelf and collided with the kitchen floor.
I had been using it almost every day since we got them back for Old Man Kevvers 40th birthday. It’s the perfect size for refreshing juice on a hot day.
No more pint glass for me.
At least I have the memories. Does anyone want to watch me walk into the pub?
5 comments on “Death of Quirky”
Its days as an ideal squash receptacle might be over, but you’ve unintentionally created a first class weapon for hand to hand combat. You could glass someone an absolute treat with that. Look at the big sharp pointy bit!
I could. I’m always starting fights down at the local ummm pub and pub-based drinking establishment. Once i walk in the door with Quirky, nobody is gonna fudge with me.
Nobody would dare. This is your anti-fudge guarantee. (What?)
It sure is (what?)
Anyway, once Kev sends me a fresh one then we’ll all be taking tea by the sea at a jamboree spelt with a “v”.