This is a story about a bottle of Jagermeister. For those of you who don’t know, Jager (pronounced yay-ger) is a herbal liquor and is mostly known for being an end of the party shot that obliterates any memory of what has previously occurred.
Now, I have had many nights where I have succumbed to the frenzy of late night shots whilst revelling with friends, but this mostly involved Southern Comfort or some strange Amaretto type cocktail shot.
So, Jager has never been in my repertoire, and this story is no different. During this particular bottle’s journey, not one drop past my lips. In fact the bottle was never even opened.
The bottle first arrived to us as a gift from my brother’s ex. She wasn’t an ex at the time but I do think it was probably the last gift that came our way before the split. It was given to my husband, Phil as a birthday present.
Now, Phil has never touched Jager and so the bottle was stored away in the cupboard to be forgotten for quite some time.
The next time the bottle saw daylight was on a trip to Center Parcs with my girlfriends. In November of 2015, we ventured to the woodland retreat for a long weekend so we could enjoy each others company without our children around. You have to understand that we all met through a breastfeeding support group so children had been at the core of our friendship since we first met but it was now time for us to connect ‘sans kids’ – and party like it was 1999.
We stockpiled our booze and took crates of wine, Prosecco and various spirits, including Mr Jager, so we could let loose over the weekend.
To say the weekend was incredible was an understatement. Words cannot describe the sheer bliss it was to experience three days without calls for ‘mummy, mummy’ and we really enjoyed each others company without any drama.
We cried, we laughed, we wet our pants (me more so than others – it’s unspeakable what child bearing does to ones body!).
We saw fireworks, went down the water rapids over and over, but never did Mr Jagar grace us with his presence.
After three glorious days, he was packed in a bag and brought home again.
The next outing for Mr J, was a repeat. The weekend in Centre Parcs was so good, that we decided to do it again! And so November 2016, crates of booze were transported, along with Mr J nestling amount some other big dogs, but alas even though we once again consumed copious amounts of alcohol, Mr J stayed securely fastened shut and he returned to the dark corner of our cupboard for another six months.
It was only very recently that Mr J left us for other adventures.
My eldest daughter has a school fete every summer and to raise money for the parents-teacher association, they have a dress down day the Friday before the festivities. Rather than paying for the privilege of wearing their own clothes, a donation of a bottle for the raffle is suggested and so this is where Mr J parted company with us.
What a perfect way to finally set him free, to send him off to a new home and help raise funds for the school at the same time.
This story would be hilarious if on the day of the fete we purchased a raffle ticket to only welcome the bottle of Jaegermeister back to us as a prize. But no such coincidence occurred!
Mr J, is no doubt on further adventures with someone else. I wonder what became of him? I wonder whether he will fulfil his souls purpose of wiping the memory of some unsuspecting parent?