“Oh yeah, this party is just getting started!”
No one paid much attention to her husband’s emphatic and very loud proclamation, because the fact was the party, a backyard barbecue, had been going on for quite some time, but she noticed the trademark wobbling and toppling but miraculously never falling down that caused his friends to nickname him Weeble, and she knew that the party was coming to a close.
Accepting his invitation to dance, she maneuvered him lurchingly to the truck even as she said goodbye to the others, even as he proudly slurred about how lucky he was to have a strong farm girl that knew how to take care of him, even as he made specific suggestions towards that end.
“Don’t start anything you can’t finish, you old drunk”, she admonished him even as he fell into open-mouthed snoring sleep.
The next morning, reaching for her hand, “We had a real good time, huh?”
“Don’t even get me started.”
Written for Ivy’s Six Sentence Story prompt, “started” at Uncharted