The boy loves coffee. In the summer he can't be let loose anywhere near an iced latte or it's history. Funnily enough, Dumpie also has a taste for champagne - a fact observed when as a baby he dipped his fingers into a celebratory flute before slurping the liquid gleefully off and toothlessly grinning like a drunk little runt.
Speaking of champagne, last night we hosted a Thai dinner party resplendent with manifold bottles of wine, port and bubbly. Now, twenty-four hours later I am still reeling from the effects of a killer hangover brought on by such decadent midweek frivolity. The party was such a success that one of our guests stayed the night and took it upon himself to try all of the beds until he found one that was 'just right'.
Unfortunately, that one turned out to be Auntie Ba's bed. She was none too amused this morning to have spent the night on the sofa whilst her bed was held hostage by an inebriated, though harmless rogue. (Never mind that said rogue is a very, very funny boy and a dear friend of ours...leaving a relative stranger and uninvited bed buddy snoring like an out of control jet engine in your freshly laundered sheets is perhaps taking our notorious familial hospitality slightly too far non?)
Auntie Ba is a saint...for a bed is a bed after all. Fingers crossed she is at least able to get her beauty sleep tonight. Though what with her hot water bottle having been commandeered by her caffeine-high nephew chatting merrily away next door, it looks like there's fat chance of that happening.