Saturday, 5 April 2014

If you happen to find a pair of knickers down the back of the sofa...

To give you an idea of the things Mrs Cake and I do to make ordinary things interesting, let me tell you about one Saturday night recently… when we went babysitting. Yes, you heard me.

You see, for some mad reason my dangerously generous wife offered to babysit for some very good friends of ours while they went out for a swanky 60th birthday celebration. The little girl, Megan is something like 18 months old and, we were told, would sleep right through. Mrs Cake sold the idea to me by:
1.       Getting the request in early – ie, before I’d managed to plan anything else.
2.       Packaging it like a teenage thing – you know, where the boyfriend comes round (I can be a bit kinky like that). Mrs Cake hadn’t had a boyfriend to come round when she did babysitting as a teenager, so you could say this was a dream coming true for her…
3.       Confirming all the usual things (snacks, pizza, booze, TV) would be present.

Why not then?

We loaded up and headed over to Altrincham where our friends live. I offered to stay in the car until they’d gone out to facilitate the whole teenage fantasy thing, but evidently we weren’t taking it that seriously, so in we went.

I had decided to spend the evening drinking the Gran Duque D’Alba Solera Gran Riserva brandy that you may remember me buying in Spain (see Golfageddon), and even took my own brandy snifter, in case our friends didn’t have any of their own. [achievement unlocked: glass geek].

 I had taken disc 1 of series 1 of 24 that I had just borrowed from someone at work, but the DVD player wasn’t connected, so it was telly or on demand movies for us (for the record, we never got beyond episode 4 anyway). We proceeded then to spend about an hour browsing the on demand stuff and not finding anything much… finally we settled on a film we’d never heard of, The Incredible Burt Wonderstone with Steve Carell. It was pretty good – along the lines of Anchorman and the like, though not quite as good as that.

And that was our Saturday night – the same as so many others, just at someone else’s house instead of our own.

The brandy went down fairly nicely but I’m beginning to think it lacks a little complexity, particularly in comparison to the Armagnac, Bas Armagnac Delord Hors D’Age. I suppose though, you can’t ask for too much for only 26 euros… mind you, that’s fairly expensive for Spain.

When our friends returned after midnight they made a quip about ‘making out’. “Let’s just say if you find a pair of Mrs Cake’s knickers down the back of the sofa, you can return them next time you see us,” I said.

There were no knickers down the sofa. Just to clarify. Or if there were, they weren’t ours…

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