"Table for that delicious smelling soup, and couch for the junk," he said decisively. He still had a mostly unfounded fear that he'd mess up eating either with his off hand or with the fake one. It hadn't happened much in the last year though it naturally had initially.
Some doubts were rather difficult to shake.
"What sort is it?" He asked curiously, poking around in the least nosey way he could so he could get them some spoons, since they weren't out yet.