Was a time when you could guess accurately how many dinners a bloke had been fortunate or popular enough to have been invited to just by counting the soup stains on his shirt or tie.
You don’t see so many today because dessert spoons are doubling as soup spoons.
Soup spoons – and to hell with etiquette and table manners – are fast becoming defunct, redundant, surplus to requirements.
Of all cutlery sets sold now, 70 per cent don’t include soup spoons. Homebase will gladly confirm.
Wouldn’t be surprised if – shock, horror – some of the younger generation slurped their soup through their fingers. Animalistic.
Seriously, it’s criminal to think the soup spoon will sink beyond rescue, but do hang on to them. They might some day earn a bob or two on Flog It.
Listen to Fern
AFTERWORDS . . . courtesy of Fern Britton and I’d like to see her back with her series of one-to-one interviews.
“When you’ve got the guy, just let him be who he is. Some women make the mistake of getting the guy and seriously trying to change him.
“There is no point. No man will text you when he says he’s going to.
‘‘They’re not going to turn up on the dot of when they said they’re going to. They will walk out of the door and say: ‘I’ll see you sometime’ and if you say ‘when will I see you?’ they’ll go ‘Oh I don’t know’.
‘‘They’ve always got to see a man about a dog. They make mysteries out of changing the plug.
“Men are not mysterious. They like to think they appear so.’’