“Come down to the basement,” Ben invited his two sons-in-law. “Let me show you something.”
He carefully slid the treasured bottle off the shelf. “It’s vintage 1961- kept saved for a special occasion.”
Each time, the bottle had been gently replaced. The sons-in-law glanced at each other silently recalling: two weddings, the birth of four grandchildren, numerous holiday gatherings.
This time however, Ben paused. He reverently wiped off the bottle, uncorked it and produced three small glasses.
“A toast,” his voice shook. “The sweetest wine for my sweetest, most beloved wife.”
They raised their glasses. The wine had gone bad.
He carefully slid the treasured bottle off the shelf. “It’s vintage 1961- kept saved for a special occasion.”
Each time, the bottle had been gently replaced. The sons-in-law glanced at each other silently recalling: two weddings, the birth of four grandchildren, numerous holiday gatherings.
This time however, Ben paused. He reverently wiped off the bottle, uncorked it and produced three small glasses.
“A toast,” his voice shook. “The sweetest wine for my sweetest, most beloved wife.”
They raised their glasses. The wine had gone bad.
