Not a good day

It's not been the best day in the Ottawacker household. 

Ottawacker Jr. has a cough and a fever, and has spent the day being stoic in an impressive way. That's in-between the endless coughs and splutters, calls for strawberries and oranges, and requests to watch any recorded Liverpool games on the PVR. It's been a tough start to Spring for the plum of my loins. If he is sick already, I am not sure how is going to survive the ultimate misery of losing the title to Manchester City.

Still, five minutes after coming home from a hard day at the office, Mrs. Ottawacker makes it all better. Which means I can get on with making dinner.

This was accompanied by a monumental f-up. I managed, somehow, not wearing my glasses, I suppose, to open a bottle of Rivesalts instead of a bottle of Chianti. Faced with the choice of a) pouring it down the sink,, b) shoving a cork in it and putting it in the fridge, and c) crying - I chose option b.  But it was a close-run thing.

When did my eyesight get so bad? Were the priests right all this time? Onan-other day, I might make a pun out of that. 

Ottawacker Jr. is now in bed, Tylenol reducing his fever as I write. I have opened a bottle of Pinot Grigio instead. Sod it, sacrifices have to be made.