Imagine. Its Saturday night, the little one’s tucked up in bed. My wife and I are just settling down to watch a good movie, there’s something decent on slow-cook in the oven, I’m gleefully eyeing the wine rack, grinning like a kid standing in front of the pick-n-mix at Woolys with a bin liner in each hand.
How about some fizz tonight? No chance. I own two bottles of champs and one bottle of cava, they are likely to still be there when pick-n-mix boy is putting his own kids to bed.
I just don’t get fizz! I don’t like it, I don’t want it! What’s the point?
If I want fizzy wine I’ll make a spritzer! (yeah, like that’ll happen…).
[dons hard-hat and dives into bunker/
]
BTW- welcome Tony