Just back from an excellent weekend with pals in Salisbury. My two friends, who I met at university, are now married with two children, making us a table of eight at the very nice Italian restaurant. La Strada.

Just after my risotto arrived with bacon and ham (not good for a vegetarian) and had to be returned, I offered to hold the baby. My wife passed him across the table for me to pick up. I got the baby but unfortunately knocked over a large glass of lemonade, which then poured down into my lap.

I took baby and myself to the toilet where I did my best to dry my trousers and pants, while he looked on smiling. Then, back to the table where a passing waitress pointed out “a little accident.” I told her I was aware of the lemonadification of my trousers but she pointed to my back, which was covered in the baby’s puke.

Eventually the correct risotto arrived and by the power of approximately 43 hand towels I was able to venture out onto the street again with my friends.

The lesson I have learned from this: if you’re a bit clumsy, only go to restaurants with electric hand driers. Or, don’t pass a baby over a cluttered table. Or, never leave home without a spare pair of trousers.


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