Up the Ladder
“Son, pass me the screwdriver,” from the top of the ladder, Billy’s dad reached his hand back expectantly.
What a funny thing to ask for, Billy thought to himself. He walked away and went into the kitchen.
Billy didn’t have to think too hard about it. A screwdriver was simple. He grabbed ice, the orange juice from the refrigerator, and vodka from his father’s liquor cabinet. Billy freehanded the whole thing, a little smile formed as he topped the glass with just a pinch of extra alcohol.
Oh, Billy paused just before he walked out of the door — he had almost forgotten a crucial step — The Garnish! Billy cut a nice little slice and wedged it into the glass.
He walked back to his father’s side triumphantly. Billy placed the drink into his father’s outstretched hand. His father turned around and gave Billy a slight frown.
“Billy,” he started, “… you have to remember that you don’t use the Manhattan glasses for these. You can use the Highball glasses next to them.”
Dengit, Billy’s head slunk in disappointment. His father took a sip of the drink.
“But,” a massive grin formed as the old man continued, “this is a terrific screwdriver, maybe your best yet.”