It’s no use, crying over spilt soup du jour.
It was my birthday and of course I had to go to Loulay Kitchen & Bar. The absolute joy shows in my face but what you don’t know is the horror story that proceeded the second after.
While I was delicately rearranging the items to capture the best lighting and angles, my husband tells me to smile. Looking up, the expression I share is of true love. My mind is afloat with hearts and starts but my hands are in mechanical mode.
Snap, the picture is taken.
Splat, the very hot, thick soup lands in my lap and oozes down my legs. My immediate thought was, “crap, I really wanted that soup and the picture would have been beautiful!”… therefore the sensation of heat did not register immediately.
After a few seconds of pause, embarrassment overcame me and I began grabbing all the cloth napkins I could find and quickly ducked down under the table to clean the floor. Our waiter comes by and asks if everything is alright, since I’m under the table, then realizes that I spilt my soup. Just as promptly he brought a handful of cloths, I had the floor clean as well as myself.
With slightly red legs and cheeks from embarrassment, I was able to salvage a few spoonfuls of soup… oh, it was divine but no picture.
Yes, it was my birthday and I didn’t cry because it’s no use, crying over spilt soup du jour.