A booking is a booking

We’d booked lunch for today in memory of Carl’s mum, who established the tradition of inviting me to lunch on Easter Sunday. Despite my accident and our long wait in the emergency department last night we decided to go ahead with the meal. We ate in 8A in Monkstown and are delighted we didn’t chicken out. The food was good, especially our starters (bruschetta for Carl, soup for me), but it was the service which made it especially memorable. Our waiter was wonderful, and even asked me if I’d like the bread buttered which came with the soup. It was a lovely gesture that definitely made things easier for me. It was difficult enough tackling my soup left-handedly. Buttering bread would have been much more challenging.

Back home, the day passed uneventfully after that. We survived our evening meal without too much clumsiness on my part and ended the watching Mrs Doubtfire, which has stood the test of time remarkably well.

Note: I don’t know how to remove the extra extra which isn’t meant to be there.