Not that long ago (in a universal sense) I was attending 21st birthdays – these largely consisted of binge drinking session at the Cook, Gardies, Ori or a parental lounge. Someone usually tried to do a yardie (for mine, the flatties bought me a large glass phallus. Yup, stylie even then). Often there was puking. It’s a right of passage of sorts.
Last night we celebrated the birthday of Science Guy’s football team mate. Roury is 39 (by all accounts a difficult age). It was a sit down dinner party. There was three courses and everything. It’s one of those markers of grown up-ness. Someone produced a bottle of fizzy wine called ‘Rory’ prompting all kinds of witty remarks along the lines of have you tasted Rory, Rory leaves a bit of an aftertaste. So not that growed up. And someone puked. OK he was two and it was milk. Still, pretty rock n roll for a Wednesday evening in Karori.
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