The kegerator, unbelievably, still has cider bought before Bill deployed. It was only a sixth of a keg, but I guess I’ve proven I’m not a big drinker.

We are moving. The kegerator must be emptied.

I remembered this as I passed the appliance on the way to the storage room for more cleaning.

“We must drink the cider,” I thought, and went back upstairs for glasses.

“We must drink the cider,” I told Bill when I returned. But I looked at the clock. “Do you think it’s too early to drink?”

“It is only 9:40,” he said. “Perhaps we should wait until 10 out of a sense of propriety,” he said with little conviction.

“Yes, we shall wait out of a sense of propriety. Not any real feelings of propriety, but just for the sense of it.”

We are on our second glasses, and it doesn’t seem ready to quit yet. This pre-moving business is rough stuff.