Fair cider tales

Once upon a time there was a young girl called Rosé. Who was beautiful. And liked to sleep a lot. At her christening, her fairy godmothers floated into the majestic hall where she was laying in a manger*, and conjured up three wonderful gifts for her. The first gift came in a glass. The glass contained a lovely golden liquid, dimpled with delicate bubbles. The first fairy godmother whispered above the sleeping babe, "I give you the gift of cider" and then fluttered off. The second gift came in a can. The can contained a lovely golden liquid, glistening like the eyes of a doleful donkey. The second fairy godmother whispered above the snoring lass, "I give you the gift of cider". And fluttered off. And the third fairy godmother came over and tucked a barrel containing lovely golden liquid, reeking like the innards of a welsh farmer at harvest time, in with the child, and said "never mind the first two presents love. This'll get you pissed in no time".

I am that child. Come and share the gifts of cider cider and cider with me, at my flat.