Via Quadronno. 73rd Street. An early lunch with my son. He preferred bread to the vegetable soup.
When we were ready to go, I had decided to take the soup home, it was a defeat, but worse defeats are imaginable, an elderly lady approached us.
‘You have the most well-behaved kid I’ve ever seen in my life. Is it a he or a she?’
‘A he,’ I said. ‘And thank you.’
She went back to her table.
‘You didn’t eat the soup,’ I said to my son, ‘but the elderly like you.’