My cup runneth over — all down my front

IDON’T remember having napkins at home for daily use when I was young. There were definitely stashes of linen napkins in the sideboard and they must have been brought out on occasions, but I’d say my mother hadn’t a notion of washing napkins all the time so we learnt to be skilful in ensuring that the contents of our plate ended up in our mouths.

Not any more. I can’t understand how I’m putting on so much weight because most of the food on my fork ends up down my front or on the table or floor. I’ve seen grown-ups with bibs tucked into their neck apparel and I’ve looked pityingly at them. Again, not any more. You could feed a family from the food that doesn’t make it to my mouth.

But what’s prompted me to be more mindful of this and to do something about it is the fact that my clothes are destroyed. Nearly every night when I go home I have to take off my top and spray stain remover all over the front and then put on a late-night wash. And a lot of the time the residue of the stain remains, and I have to turn it into a top for wearing only in the house. So it’s becoming a very costly affliction.

At a drinks party the other day a woman I don’t really know looked at me and said “Did you not want to drink it?” I looked down and most of my coffee liqueur was down my front. Admittedly it was in a difficult-tonegotiate Martini glass and I had had a few too many.

So do I start asking for two napkins — one to tuck into my neck and one for my lap? Or maybe I should bring a single sheet along with me and cover most of the area around me as well. And maybe ditch the knife and fork for a spoon and pour my wine in a kid’s cup?