In that Zoe Heller book “Notes on a Scandal” she has her middle class family wandering round the supermarket with the husband shouting to the wife “Darling, do we need more balsamic vinegar?’”. At the weekend, this alone stopped me from shouting to my husband across a couple of aisles : “Did you get the champagne?”
Thanks for your help with the cocoa crisis! How did you find me? (And I’m still trying to figure out what comment I made that tipped you off to where I live…)
But I’m so glad you wrote, because this way I now know of your blog. Which I will enjoy perusing and empathizing with.
I was stung by wasps a few years ago when we still lived in England. A collection of vinegars from the neighbours brought: balsamic, aged balsamic, cider, red wine, tarragon, sherry vinegar but none of the common-or-garden variety. That was when I realised that we had moved to the middle classes.
O boy, you could have been that family we saw in Louvain-la-Neuve the other day (described in my post of today). Tell me your husband doesn’t wear pink shirts and bermuda pants?
Heather, super. Peggy, my husband has red hair, pink is not a good colour for him, I think we’re in the clear on this one. I suppose the worry is that it could be us…