Unfortunately, on the days where Claire has to work, I must remain out of trouble in the bedroom.
I can now get downstairs on my own, but still believe that it is only safe to do so while my wife is nearby. This is in case I do something stupid, like standing up on the stair lift while it is in motion, or trying to go somewhere in the house which is unsafe – the loft has always seemed interesting.
To keep me nourished, Claire prepares me a bag of food and drink, for my enjoyment while she is out of the house.
One of the items she made me on Friday, was a bottle of Coke. Claire had to use an old water bottle, which she filled with Coca Cola from a larger bottle. How boring – you don’t want to be reading that. I hope you haven’t fallen asleep!
Anyway, at some point during the afternoon, I was becoming rather thirsty. Thinking a refreshing drink of Coke would help, I opened the bottle…
Bloody hell! It was if a bomb had gone off! The bang generated by the escaping CO2 was so loud and unexpected, it was lucky I didn’t release any gas of my own.
I am pleased to report that despite the thunderous noise and trauma to my central nervous system, no mess was generated – neither from the bottle or my bottom.
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