I casually mentioned to my dear friend Ebba (who's currently staying with us, and also organising my life in general and my fridge in particular) that I wouldn't mind a snack. Meaning port wine and potato chips, quite obviously.
She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with tea, dips and carrot sticks.
I feel there must have been a terrible error in my communication, but I ate all the dip. It would be rude not to.
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