The Dad and Zima poste

After Sei asked in a comment so nicely with a please for a Dad and Zima post, until now I haven't responded. This has been because there really is very little to tell. I have no idea why Peter and his co-workers found the incident so amusing. Back when I was in high school I had an English teacher who would come into the class room and write a phrase on the blackboard. I remember once it was 'a half inch of rain'. We students were then supposed to write an essay or a story on that subject. I don't like to brag, but I used to be pretty good at it. Maybe I can spin a tale about Dad and the Zima. Dad is a retired pastor who was also the son of a pastor. This, of course, means that the poor guy had a Lutheran pastor's wife for both his mother and his wife. It so happens the one thing Dad really likes to do is sit around and have a few drinks with someone. Back when he was a teenager and all his friends were out partying, his mother really frowned on this. He wasn't allowed to go along. Years later, when he was in his forties and visiting his mother in his home town of Plainview, Minnesota, his mother STILL didn't want him to go downtown and have a beer in a bar with a friend. Everyone in Plainview knew he was a pastor. How would it look? Now, I didn't set out to be a pastor's wife. I kind of got drawn into it by my husband's charm. But I have to admit, sometimes when he was set on partying I asked myself, "How's it going to look?" And there's another reason why I haven't been the best drinking buddy for him. I've had worsening digestion for over forty years. I don't know whether we can blame that on the ministry or not. At any rate, by now there are many things that I can partake of only sparingly. Alcohol is one of them. I'm not sure that my husband believes this. Doesn't it say in the Bible, "Take a little wine for thy stomach's sake"? So I think when he's out shopping at the liquor store he looks for something to please me and entice me. That's kind of sweet, isn't it? If he's also looking for a drink to offer one of his children, I think he looks for something modern, maybe a little more expensive than what we usually buy. Now that we've gotten older and moved into the woods, our children seem very worldly and sophisticated to us. One day last month when Peter was here visiting, he and I went to Doug's Supermarket to buy some things for supper after one of our exciting afternoon activities. Dad went to the liquor store for the beverages. He came back with some Zima and proudly told us that the shopkeeper had assured him that it was a malt beverage. He opened one and handed it to Peter. Peter said that it was a kind of sweet drink usually preferred by the ladies. He handed it to me. I took a little sip and put it down on the counter and left it there. I don't like to drink when I'm trying to cook. It gets me confused. [If you want me to drink with you, take me out for supper.] Well, waste not, want not. Poor Pastor Schoewe had to drink all six Zima's by himself even though he didn't like them either. Now what's so funny about that?