Cheers!

Builders abandoned their half-finished house,

meaning two husbands arrived,

to add to mine. Loaded,

with sixteen cases of wine, one loo roll and a fennel chorizo.

Their terrier’s top dog to our whippet and cat

ready for combat beneath an unstable camping table,

for one husband’s courtroom zoom calls. His horsehair wig,

jauntily angled on a blank-faced stand.

Our 16-year-old daughter, relieved she’s locked up and free,

from maths, physics and chemistry,

the isolating bullying. Home saved her.

Our merlot-soaked conversations amused her.

Dogs avoided each other; cat scarpered.

Husbands bickered. We simmered.

Daughter glued to her phone in a bedroom floordrobe.

Meals thrown down, wine flowed through.

Attempted serious drama. Failed,

cried laughing at shouty actors.

Watched comedy and wept.

Toasted sobriety; regretfully.