Cliff, you’re very right about the, um, elasticity in the way that the words ‘wee dram’ can be defined.
“That’s very nice”, one of the guests, another old farmer, told my uncle (staring first at the Johnnie Walkers and then–with deep meaning–at a closed cupboard in one corner of the room) “but didn’t your father keep the Glenmorangie in there.”
At that point my uncle, a wise man, recognized that this was one of those times that Churchill was wrong. Sometimes you do have to surrender.
Updated. Earlier version (slightly) garbled. Whisky was not to blame.