I’m sure I’ve told you this story. No? Well, here we go
It was my brother’s 21st birthday. We had all gathered at a big fancy restaurant for dinner. How fancy? Well, I was wearing a long dress and long gloves! It must have been pretty fancy, but my dress would not have disguised the fact that I was pregnant. Apart from ourselves and my brother, my parents, and two uncle and aunts were there, along with a couple of cousins. We had great fun, lots of chatter, lots of wine including champagne (I’m trying to set the scene here!). (This was in the days when a glass or so of red wine was considered good for the baby, I hasten to add)
The dishes were served silently, coming and going with an effortless ease. We didn’t really notice the waiters, it was a really special evening. I have no memory of the first or main course. They must have been good, or I would have remembered them as bad. Finally the dessert menu was presented, and I chose fresh figs. Well……
It now transpired that the Maitre d’ was Greek. He suddenly went into ecstasy mode.! The whole restaurant became silent and everyone looked in our direction. ‘Madame! Madame! Madame, she want figs! Madame, she want fresh figs! She want FIGS! She is pregnant and she want FIGS! In my country, we know when a lady want figs when she is pregnant, she is expecting a boy. More champagne! She is expecting a boy.’ He went on in this vein for some time, the whole restaurant cheered, and we did indeed get a free bottle of champagne. I duly ate my figs and went home.
Three months later I gave birth to our daughter. I remembered this the other day when I read this post. Have you had your fig today? 😉