My son and I had lunch at Nandos Canary Wharf today while we waited for my Pixel 3 screen to be replaced (because I’m crap and damaged it within a fortnight of getting it).
He was happily munching away on half a corn on the cob – it’s an amazing sight, some chicken and a few chips, when a group of men left the restaurant and walked past our table.
Most people look towards Rafe, smile and have a brief chat with the two of us. Not this time, one of the group said the following:
“You should get him a plate for his lunch so he isn’t eating off the table”stranger
Oh, should he now?
I was quite pleased with my response:
“So he can break the plate?”ME
He repeated his advice.
I repeated my sentence.
There endeth the interaction.
- Rafe is fourteen and a half months, he can’t be trusted with a plate or bowl, plastic or otherwise
- The table isn’t dirty
- If the table is a bit dirty it will only boost his immune system
- Who the fuck are you? Fuck off
Thank you to the nice lady next to me who chatted to me after and basically said he was being a nob. You are good people.
This was him in Nandos Bayswater last week. I started giving him knifed off bits of corn, and then thought I needed to see his reaction to the entire cob. It’s brilliant!