Eiswein, very fine, now a favored drink o' mine

I had been told, by those with greater breadth of knowledge, and more discerning palates, that I would enjoy this.
I was even assured that sweet though eisweins are, they also tend to a complexity that even Himself would find not unpleasing. That seems to have been not quite true, I think he drank for civility and duty and frugality's sake, although he assured me he found it delightful.
But he is a such very good actor that I can never know about these things...
But I found it a marvelous way to put a capper on a (mysteriously and unwontedly tiring ) day.
Although he prefers desert dry (when I can be quite happy with desSert sweet, and extravagant though it would be, still hope, some day, to taste Chateau d'Yquem,) and actually knows what he is saying when worlds like "oakey" and "finish" and "tannin" spill forth from his lips, I am a miracle of oenelogical naivete - to give you an idea, when I was young and foolish and fancied myself madly in love with a baritone from an ivy league school I went on a double date that was, to that time, the most "adult" I had ever ha, (going to the opera is not adult, when your prep school date's mother knows your mother and fixes you up, and tries to impress you with sophisticated obscenities rather than, say, Italian.)
We saw a show in New York starring someone they knew, and dined in Little Italy (exotic!) and after graciously asking my permission, ordered for me, veal marsala, which I had never heard of before, and didn't even blink when telling the waiter that mine was to have no mushrooms (now that I think of it, eating the mushrooms would have upped the maturity level for me considerably...)
He asked what kind of wine I would prefer, and I made a joke that I wasn't sure I could tell the difference between red and white even with my eyes open.
The other young man earnestly and kindly started to explain that they really were different colors and suddenly I wasn't the most naive person at the table.
I haven't thought of those lovely young men in years. (I hope they are both happy, healthy prosperous middle-aged men.)
But any way, that was probably my first encounter with the Literal Mind.
Because sarcasm was our lingua franca, even in elementary school, and word play and puns were common, it had never occurred to me that anyone took anything in casual conversation literally.

I'm not sure if that encounter didn't scar me for life. As a performer, I mean.

I do tend to overplay. (Mug, wink wink, get it? mug some more, over -inflect... well, I do it in writing, don't I? the over use of ellipses, the constant italics, the frequent upper case for emphasis; so afraid someone won't get it, you know)
I was helping a friend who was doing a dissertation on the development of cognitive ability in learning disabled children and more than once read something to the effect that children under a certain age (7, I think,) neither use nor perceive and comprehend sarcasm.
Academics and educators lead such sheltered lives...
While taking a long car trip with the Harpy and the Troll, 5 & 4 respectively, and playing the "We Don't Need No Stinking Badgers" game to while away the time, we passed a billboard for the Cafe Risque. Herself could read words of one syllable going into kindergarten, so she asked what "We Bare All" meant.
Well, it's a restaurant, and naked ladies serves breakfast.
The littler one raised an eyebrow and said, "Oh, riiiiiiiight..." (well, actually, "Oh, wiiiiight," he had an "r" problem.)
Are you telling me he did not (mis-) perceive sarcasm in my (to him, outlandish,) reply?
And that he himself didn't give it right back to me?

What was I talking about.....?
Oh yes.
I'll have another.