A year ago we got the call telling us the induction was booked for the next day and we headed out to say goodbye to restaurants. As befits someone who wasn't all of the pregnant, I had wine and venison, while The Chef lusted after our neighbour's chips.
Over the years, I've never understood why I say no to the question, "Should we get chips?" Audible regret ever follows.
Our in meal distraction was the middle-aged consultant The Chef recognised taking a young doctor out on what was clearly a date. Or, as was explained to me, another young doctor.