Had dinner with my rather sheepish father tonight. We looked at his x-ray and you could see a definite crack at the top of his humerus, which is causing him a lot of pain. Not quite enough pain, mind you to warrant taking the very strong pain-killers that you can’t mix with alcohol, because he wanted to have a beer tonight.
We were amused to see that his notes described him as being “inebriated and merry”. My brother told me that it had been a great shame that he had fallen over because up until then he had been the “life and soul” of the party. “You mean, life arsehole” said my dad.
