It would be true to say my granddad enjoyed a drink. It was often a topic of discussion as to whether to invite him to family occasions as he often got loud and spoke his mind after a few drinks. It was on one of his drinking binges that he managed to injure his leg falling over. I was given the task at 21 of looking after him for a few days. It was not my idea of fun but I could not get out of it.
I had always had a thing about granddad. He was 6ft with short silver hair, a large stocky build, short silver/grey beard and a booming voice. He would never take no for an answer and had an air of authority about him.
I arrived late evening at granddads and put my bags in the small guest room. It had the same musky odour I remembered as a kid. In fact the dcor had remained the same brown and beige colours for years.
I made my way down to the living room where granddad sat on the sofa wearing his bathrobe. His leg wrapped in a support and rested up on a small foot stall. He was watching TV and drinking his whisky form a large cut crystal glass.
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