Last night saw us in attendance at a local French restaurant staffed by Polish people, I had part of a Sea Bass for health reasons, Isabelle had two desserts. Al, who was recently fifty, probably had the dearest thing on the menu with his bottle of Cotes du Rhone. Peter lingered on the pavement then made his exuses and didn't have anything, sixty, the day before yesterday, "A lot on.." he says...
We'll be missing his BBQ celebration on Sunday, if you can call it a celebration ("I never thought i'd see the Millenium"). This is because of the 'proper' Triathlon in Chester, which to be honest I'm actually pooing it about even more than last weekends combined Triathlon/ School Reunion/Perfect Woman day.
The trip will also incorporate a meal out with my brother, seventy last week, a landmark that slipped my mind until two days after.
So there we are fifty, sixty and seventy; respectively, liver damage, heart disease and arthritus. Well actually, in my brothers case, all three.
2 comments:
You seem to have as much on as that Peter fellow. Wonder if he has such an exciting a life as you seem to have?
The last one of the previous weekends combo seems to be the Holy Grail of male accomplishments.
You may disagree . .
Are teenage dreams so hard to beat.
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